Miles’ Zero Quest
by Archaon
Summary: A two-tailed fox, a bit older than a toddler, wakes up alone in the middle of nowhere, with no memory of his past. This is Tails’ story, before he met a certain cobalt speedster. Based on the game ‘Tails Adventure’.
1. StormBirth

**Miles' Zero Quest**

**-s-t-h-**

**Chapter 1: Storm/Birth**

**-s-t-h-**

What is the definite boundary between sleep and wakefulness, oblivion and consciousness?

He opened his eyes and gazed vacantly at the unfamiliar surroundings. At first, he coined it up to the aforementioned boundary. Memory is sometimes hazy when you recover from deep sleep.

He was lying on something soft. A bed? He identified the material as being made of pure cotton.

He could hear nothing at all but the sound of his own heart. It was steadily increasing. He measured his pulse. Nominal.

He could smell... many things, albeit nothing intimately familiar. He could still somehow tell them apart. His own scent, very faint. The sheets he was lying on, freshly washed. The smell of wood. The smell of mechanic oil. The smell of circuits.

He could taste his own saliva, and even that felt unfamiliar. A bit tangy. A bit too much acid. Must have slept for long.

He could see, unblinking, through a widow. Wooden frame, probably ironwood, his mind supplied. Double panes. Beyond the glass there was only the sky, saturated with heavy black clouds.

As he watched, he heard the wind blowing for the first time. The clouds danced violently at its wake. Then his world became light. Before he could regain his vision, a booming sound shattered the already breached silence.

He yelped, the first sound from his mouth. His mind told him it was just lightning. Electrical discharge from cloud to cloud. So hot it displaces air and creates sound. No danger.

His body told him to hide and he did so, diving underneath his oversized pillow and curling into a tight, shivering ball of orange fluff, tails wrapping around his body. He didn't even notice he sported two of the appendages.

Dominated by irrational fear, it was only a full hour later he managed to calm himself down, meekly, hesitantly emerging from underneath his feeble shelter. It was just raining now. The thunderstorm had subsided.

He once again regarded his immediate space, uttering his first words in a tiny, young voice. "Who am I?"

**-s-t-h**

After minutes of exploration, he located a mirror. Placed in a small bathroom, it was full-sized and yet very plain.

He only hesitated for a moment, then walked before the reflective surface. He gazed at himself in wonder, taking in his appearance. The first word that jumped to his mind was 'puny'.

"I am a fox, a mobian, sentient, sapient fox of male gender," he declared to no one in particular. Like with everything else, he had no idea where such knowledge originated from. His mind had simply provided it as a universal truth and he had no reason to doubt it. He looked behind him, at his two particularly fluffy tails that were reflexively moving and waving on their own.

"A thick coat of three main colors," he went on, as if reciting a report. "White on my face, chest, belly and tailtips; black on my hands and feet; Orange on everywhere else. I also have an extra tail. Possible mutation or a family trait. None of my tails seems dominant; my spine is split evenly down in the middle after my pelvis. Age..."

He paused at that, his brows furrowing. This was the first time two separate parts of his mysterious knowledge clashed. His body was a body of three to four years. His mind, though, seemed to be a lot older. Such an inconsistency vexed him. It simply defied logic.

He let a sigh. "Age appears to be three, at most four years. Further research will be required. Name... unknown."

He gulped at that, looking away from the mirror. Lacking a name left him with an overpowering sense of emptiness. Making that his new objective, he left the bathroom, deciding to explore the rest of the house. He soon discovered what he believed was a kitchen. The young fox kept expecting to run to another sentient being, both hoping and dreading such an encounter. Perhaps they would be able to explain to him who he really was. On the other hand, meeting anyone in his condition, probably amnesia, he theorized, would put him at a distinct disadvantage.

The first thing he noticed in the new room was the fridge. Device meant to preserve edible substances, provided his mind. He was ravenously hungry, provided his stomach. The fridge proved to be stocked to the brim. Also, most of its contents needed little to no preparation. He sniffed the cold air once, then retrieved what he knew were a couple of chicken sandwiches.

He struggled for a few seconds, then managed to climb on the overly tall, for him, chair, barely able to reach the room's table. The sandwiches were swiftly devoured. It was only after his hunger was sated that he noticed another item on the table. A thick notebook.

With trembling hands, he opened it at the first page, almost jumping from his seat as a pencil fell from inside. The notebook was empty, except for a single, handwritten phrase at the top of the first page.

'Property of Miles Prower.'

The tiny fox blinked at that, astonished by the fact he could read fluently. Another clue belying what his age seemed to be. "Miles Prower," he repeated aloud, as if tasting the name. There was no familiarity to it and he frowned a bit. "It sounds like a pun if you say it fast. Could it be...?"

Gazing at the pencil, he gulped again, slowly picking it up. It felt very natural in his hand, a true extension of his will.

"Miles Prower," he repeated again as he expertly wrote that name below the first one. He let the writing implement down and compared the two lines. They were nearly identical.

"Uncannily coping someone else's handwriting is improbable," he declared. "Unless I find another clue, my name is Miles Prower. Miles Prower, the two-tailed fox.

For the first time he could remember, Miles smiled. "Now to other important matters," he decided nodding to himself. "Like naming my two tails," he added very seriously, hugging said appendages with affection.

**-s-t-h-**

The newly named Vortex and Hurricane, his left and right tail respectively, waved behind him happily as Miles explored the rest of his apparent home. Following a small corridor that connected his bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, he reached what he believed was a plain living room, the yet largest space he had ever seen, albeit still small. There were two more doors there. One of them obviously led outside and he didn't even approach it. The other one, though, seemed to call to him. Excited about a possible clue regarding his lost memories, he hastily opened that door, his jaw hitting the floor at the spectacle.

The new room, easily larger than the rest of the house put together, was a combination of laboratory, machine shop and library. Haphazardly filled bookcases hid half of the walls, numerous messy workbenches with unidentifiable gadgets, machine parts and tools were all around and he could even see the shell of a half-completed vehicle of unknown function and identity.

"This... this is heaven!" he exclaimed on impulse, although he wasn't sure why. The place, his workshop, he decided, mightily appealed to his instincts despite the apparent sloppiness of its previous users.

Hardly thinking about it, he reached one of the desks, grabbed a piece of paper and a nearby pen and started drawing the blueprints of complex machinery.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles stirred groggily. Once again he blinked in puzzlement at his surroundings. This time, though, the memory of the previous day came to him clearly. "I fell asleep," he realized aloud, after remove the thumb he had apparently been sucking. Talking to himself was starting to become a habit. With no one else around, he felt the need to occasionally break the prevailing silence.

Hurricane twitched in discomfort from under his cheek and he raised his head from his impromptu pillow. His other tail reached his face and gently wiped his weary eyes as he stretched and yawned. He had been consumed by his work for hours, never noticing night had come, and only falling asleep a mere hour before dawn, his child body finally giving out.

"Well, then Miles," he addressed himself. "Another day for you to conquer. Another day of figuring out my existence," he went on, glancing at his plans and freaking out a bit when he noticed the slobber stains he had left.

"Today I shall venture outside this building." In truth, he was trying to encourage himself. Intellectually, he was aware the world was a lot larger than the walls around him, but the thought of going out was downright scary. He left his seat, wincing a bit at the soreness he felt. Sleeping on a desk wasn't such a good idea, after all.

"I shall venture outside," he repeated, self-importantly. Then his eyes went wide, his legs crossed a bit and he looked downwards. "After a bathroom break," he finished with a yelp, running and barely reaching in time for Nature's call.

**-s-t-h-**

There had been many articles of clothing in his room, all stashed inside a wardrobe and all at his correct size. Despite that, he only felt the need to wear a pair of gloves, a pair of socks and a pair of red and white sneakers. Unlike children his age, he was aware of modesty and embarrassment, but he had verified his fur was long enough to more than conceal what little there was to be hidden. The weather was pretty hot after last day's storm and he felt that anything more would prove constricting.

He confidently walked to the front door, then stood very still, his hand on the handle, not unlike a statue. His tails were rigid behind him and also very still for the first time, reflecting the dread he felt.

"This is very easy," he said out loud, despite lacking an audience. "In fact, this is laughable," he added. "Nothing easier than turning the handle, tugging at it and stepping outside. Child's play." A bead of nervous sweat rolled off his face, dropping at the floor. He heard it as clear as a drum.

Miles gulped, took three deep breaths and tried again. Instead, his hand left the handle, falling lifelessly to his side. Ignoring the room's comfy couch, he sat on the floor, back against the offending door, and he hugged his legs with arms and tails, feeling both fear and shame.

"It's only natural. Stupid but natural. I can recall nothing but what is inside these walls. Of course I'm afraid of the unknown."

He sat there idle, trying to suppress the shivers running down his spine, all the way to the tips of his twin appendages. His mind proved unhelpful as he started visualizing any possible horror that could be lurking outside. Dinosaurs perhaps. Of the carnivorous kind. Or dragons. Or lions. Or aliens. Or firearm-wielding thugs. Or mobian-eating plants. Or mutant abominations of unstable DNA configuration, towering at the height of mountains with lots of poisonous tentacles. Or, worse, lightning!

Vortex reached for his face and wiped away tears he hadn't noticed he was shedding. He gritted his teeth and decided he had to face the outdoors, even if it meant his demise. The food he had available wouldn't last forever and being devoured was preferable to dying of hunger.

Gathering his resolve, he returned to his feet, took and held a deep breath and reached for the handle once more. His fur stood on edge in a futile attempt to make him seem large and intimidating. He turned the handle, kicked the door open and all but leaped outside, ready to make the inevitable, to his mind, fight or flight decision.

He was standing on a raised wooden platform, a small patio between his door and the ground. His house was in the middle of a tranquil beach, with soft, golden sand that was still a bit damp from the rain. Palm trees dotted the place, with seagulls and other, harmless birds flying around. The clean blue sea beyond the sand was calm, only slightly waving back and forth hypnotically. The slight smell of salt caressed his nose.

After standing very still for almost a minute, Miles fell on his knees, his relief so great his legs failed to support him. The tiny vulpine snickered to himself, with only a slight trace of madness.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 1.**

A/N: There you have it, my first multi-chaptered story in this category. This is basically a loose adaptation of 'Tails Adventure', a Game Gear game of the 'ancient' year of 1995. The English manual fudged the story, but it's basically Tails' first adventure, happening surprisingly before he met Sonic. It was republished as a mini-game in many Sonic collections, including 'Sonic Adventure DX'.

The game itself has no dialogue, so expect me to heavily modify it and add some secondary characters. Those who know of the game, should rightly expect dark themes from this story. While I will do my best to maintain a healthy amount of humor, this could possibly become dark enough to qualify for an M rating. It goes without saying there will be action. Tails must discover his often ignored chaos powers, after all.

The updates will be chaotic, of course. Don't expect any kind of schedule, although reviews do occasionally help to speed me up.


	2. AdaptationExpansion

**Chapter 2: Adaptation/Expansion**

**-s-t-h-**

He left his house whistling, just as the sun was born at the edge of the horizon. The irony of how much a whole week had changed his attitude was lost to him. Bath towel in one hand, tiny bundle with his clothes in the other, both were left at the edge of the beach, secured with stones just beyond the height the seawater usually reached.

Miles had soon discovered he loved swimming. His two tails made the experience all that more pleasant. "Well, then Vortex, Hurricane, let's see which of you will do better today", he declared. In reality, the tiny vulpine was very aware that talking to his own tails like that was not exactly healthy. He just wanted a chance to talk, and talking to his twin appendages was slightly less awkward than talking to himself.

After a few laps across his private beach, the fox took a deep breath and dived underneath the waves, returning to the surface with a sphere-like metal object. One of his fish traps. He had decided he needed to find a way to replenish his food supply and he simply couldn't be bothered fishing with a rod. Miles had realized very fast that idleness did not suit him in the least.

"A nice haul today", he declared, nodding to himself. His special fish bait was so potent, he was having trouble lifting the otherwise light fishtrap out of the water. His satisfied visage drooped a little, though, when he remembered the real problem he was facing. "We must come in contact with civilization sometime, guys", he decided, still addressing his tails, while toweling most of the water off his fur and dressing; the sun would take care of the rest. "Not so much to meet other people, although you won't see me complaining, but mainly because I'm about to run out of materials."

That last line was delivered with more than just a little dread. No matter how competent he was, Miles needed raw materials to keep tinkering in his workshop. Given a few years, he was convinced he could find a way to easily mine ore, manufacture plastic and paper or pump crude oil from underground. For now, however, all of those things were beyond his means, thus his need to contact other individuals.

Sighing, he reached his house and dumped the full fishtrap in his 'Aquatic Life Processor'. He had designed it to automatically sort, clean and prepare his fish. His own time was too important to bother.

Leaving his house, he entered an adjacent shack for his daily checkup on the machinery therein. A water pump that was drawing and purifying water from an underground stream and a power generator. He had discovered them soon after he had mastered his fear of outdoors and they were the only reason he was provided with clean tap water and electricity.

The water pump was simplicity itself, but the generator had intrigued him. After some very careful exploration, he had deduced it was drawing power from a certain mysterious item. A golden ring of perfect shape, the size of his palm.

Despite his curiosity, he hadn't dared to try and remove it. Indeed, he wasn't even sure about how the generator itself worked and he had no intention to deprive himself of his only power source.

Still, he had decided to check the generator at least once per day and spend at least ten minutes trying to analyze it. His inquisitive nature demanded at least that much.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles was walking through the vegetation very carefully, pencil and notebook in his hands. He had decided he needed to chart the area around his house before exploring further, if only to avoid getting lost.

He had to stop and blink in disbelief, however, when he spotted a golden ring, identical to the one powering his house. And if finding such an item in the middle of nowhere was not peculiar enough, the fact that said ring was floating above the ground, touching nothing at all, certainly was.

The young fox approached slowly, his hand hovering above, then below the levitating item, before hesitantly touching it. It was perfectly smooth and warm to the touch, and Miles felt a weird connection between himself and the ring. He had been longing to hold the one in the generator and decided not to miss the chance. Looking very alert, he swiftly snatched the ring from its invisible perch, expecting some kind of resistance.

There was none and he almost fell on his rear.

Huffing a bit after regaining his balance, tails lashing behind him, the vulpine examined his new ring closely, feeling a faint stream of energy passing through his body. Miles blinked at that, although he decided it was hardly harmful.

Checking to see if anything more of interest was around, he hurried back to his workshop. He had serious analysis to conduct.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles glared at his mirror, not satisfied with the shorts and T-shirt he was current wearing. "Forget it," he snapped, removing the articles and discarding them without a second thought. He had discovered the location of a possible settlement and he had been fretting about his appearance.

In the end, he had decided against dressing any more than he usually did. "With serious problems like running out of circuit boards, I could care less about what they think of my attire."

What he did take with him was a bag of golden rings. During the last days, he had managed to collect thirty of the artifacts. In fact, it was getting easier and easier to spot them, as if he was developing some sort of sixth sense. "Something to try and measure when I get back. If these things can be used as legal tender, it would be kind of neat."

Miles sighed, stretching his tails. "I'm talking to myself too much", he stated. Not that he was about to make any effort to stop. He figured as long as nobody answered back, his sanity was secure.

Three hours later, he was following a medium-sized river, heading away from the sea. Occasionally, a piece of random debris would appear in the stream of said river, hastily heading towards the sea. The fox needed no other reassurance. Empty chocolate wrappings were a dead giveaway, really.

A fair bit of trekking later, he could finally see it. A town, fitted between the river's body and an extensive forest. To his dismay, the level of technology was generally very low. While it was civilized enough to have a small, coal-powered power plant and even a diminutive airstrip, the people still used horses and wood stoves. What was more, there didn't seem to be any major roads leading in or out of said town.

'Welcome to Poloy. Population: 1453'

Miles nodded at the sign that greeted him, finally able to place a name on the small town. Taking a deep breath, he walked forward and entered Poloy. The time was late morning and there were quite a few people walking around the rudimentarily paved roads. The little fox let a sigh of relief after he realized they were talking the same language as he did. That had been one of his main worries.

Still, it was quite unnerving to walk among such great numbers. It had been a few weeks since Miles had woken up in his house and he had gotten used to solitude. He needed to constantly remind himself that, in their eyes, he as nothing more than a random kid. Those that actually paid attention did notice his extra tail, but they generally tried to be polite about it, refraining from staring.

The young vulpine soon reached a tiny, deserted park, deciding to sit on one of the wooden benches. The smell of flowers reached his nose and he relaxed a bit, closing his eyes and taking it in. Imported species, he deduced. He had never smelled those varieties before.

He wasn't physically tired, but rather mentally fatigued. The realization came to him that he hadn't bothered to make any plans beyond finding the town. A day ago, the concept of meeting other sentient individuals had seemed like a faraway fantasy. Miles sighed and opened his eyes again. At the same time, the noise that reached his ears indicated he was not alone anymore. A gaggle of children, the youngest of them around his age, the oldest thrice that, had entered the park.

"Ok, guys, I got the ball," declared one of the older kids, a green-furred rabbit, displaying a weatherworn and patched item that only had a passing resemblance to a sphere. One of his ears had a reddish scar on the underside.

"We need another player," noted a female white weasel, prompting some of the younger children to try and count with their fingers. She was wearing red shorts and a matching T-shirt that seemed a bit tight on her.

"How about that fox over there?" asked a brown beaver that couldn't have been older than seven. Miles was not looking directly at them, but he was slowly deducing his peripheral vision was impeccable. The beaver's gloves were full of tears.

The green rabbit looked at his direction, then scoffed. "That tiny weird fox thing? I don't think so. Look, he even has two tails."

As Miles rolled his eyes, the white weasel punched the rabbit's arm, prompting a huff. "If you talk any louder, he'll hear you, idiot. And what's wrong with two tails. He is kind of cute. I bet the extra tail will make him a better player," she replied, fully unaware Miles was hearing every word and blushing.

The other shrugged. "Sure, whatever. I'll go call him," he suggested, only to be stopped by his friend.

"Don't be a poophead", she chastised him. "You'll probably scare him away." Miles frowned at that. He was scared of nothing, he told to himself. Really! "Go ask him if he wants to play, Lily. You are about his age."

"S-sure."

The young fox turned a bit to the side to regard the incoming girl. She seemed to be a purple and pink mongoose with just a bit of cat blood in her to slightly enhance her grace. Couldn't be older than four.

He turned all the way around as she came closer. "Hi, I'm Lily. Want to play with us?" she asked shyly, rocking nervously on her feet while holding a tiny, grimy hand at him.

Miles had intended to politely refuse. In his mind, he didn't have time to play around, never mind his age. Still, seeing her there like that, looking so expectant, made the decision for him.

Just as Lily's smile had waned and she was ready to turn and bolt, he smiled back at her and took her hand. "Hi, Lily, my name is Miles. I have some time, but I haven't played before", he replied a bit awkwardly.

The tiny mongoose beamed at him. "No problem! I'll show you how. It will be fun!"

**-s-t-h-**

Arnold, the green rabbit, collapsed under the shade of a tree, looking very exhausted. The rest of his friends were in similar shape. "I still can't believe this is the first time you play, Miles," he said amidst panting. "You pack a punch, too," he whined, rubbing a bruise on his side. Their 'game' had been a combination of football and handball with hardly any rules regarding contact.

A slightly tired Miles flushed at that, looking very sheepish. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard. I just wanted to distract you a bit."

Alicia, the white weasel, came from behind and scuffed him between the ears. "Don't listen to him, Miles. You made him squeal like a girl. You are awesome, kid. Next time I really want to play against you. It's no challenge otherwise."

As the rabbit glared at her, Miles tried to escape her rough ministrations, one eye closed and ears flattened. "Knock it off, already," he complained, Alicia sticking her tongue out at him. "Where is Lily, anyway?"

They all turned around, only to hold their laughter. Said mongoose girl had fallen asleep against the tree trunk. "Aw, you guys broke her," said another of the children. Lily wearily opened her eyes and blinked in confusion.

Arnold sighed, approaching and picking her up. "We'll have to call it a day, guys. It's already noon and I'm hungry. I'll get her home. Tomorrow, same hour?"

"Sure," replied Alicia among many nods of approval. "We'll be expecting you, Miles," she added smiling.

Said fox rubbed his nose with one of his tails. "I'm not sure I can. I live kinda far from here."

The weasel nodded at that. "Ok, then, but know you'll always have a place with us," she finished before walking away.

Miles stood in the middle of the park, sighing happily. This had proven to be a lot more enjoyable than he'd thought. A growl from his belly derailed his train of thought. "Well then, Hurricane, Vortex, let's find something to eat."

Habits died hard, after all.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 2**

A/N: Not much in the way of action, but this is basically prologue material. Another two chapters until the real plot starts. Still, I believe I have started to establish a nice background for the mayhem that will soon happen. Don't look too much into the new characters. They are only slightly important and not for very long.

I bet you expected the other children to shun Tails, didn't you? While it was certainly possible, it would really be lack of the draw in real life. The fact that Tails has an extra tail instead of missing something is also to his favor. Others don't see it as a disability.

Thank you for reviewing! Three reviews for a new story in a category I'm new is pretty good.


	3. KeenKin

**Chapter 3:**** Keen/Kin**

**-s-t-h-**

"What do you think of that one?"

"The two-tailed freak? Does he even have any?"

"Let's follow him. He'll be an easy target."

Miles rolled his eyes at that as the two strangers started shadowing him. "Why do they think I can't hear them?" he muttered. "Their ears must be clogged or something." He wasn't exactly sure what they wanted, but he wasn't completely naive, either. He could smell incoming trouble, so he decided to confront them anyway.

"Can I help you?" he asked very politely after turning, taking the chance to study the duo. One of them was a female, yellow-furred wolf with small, shifty eyes, dressed in black leather, while her companion was a gray porcupine, sporting a very impressive scar running down his cheek. They were a lot older than the children Miles had played with, but still younger than seventeen, by his reckoning.

Taken aback by his forwardness, it took them a moment to regain their wits. "My lady friend here wants some creds for lunch, twerp," replied the porcupine after a while. "We were wondering if you are a donor."

The wolf snickered. "Does the little freak even know what a donor is?"

Miles raised a brow. "I believe I do, but you certainly don't. Donating is traditionally done voluntarily, after all," he corrected them, albeit being sincere instead of sarcastic.

They both glared at him. "Details. You'd better have some creds on you, or you'll be de-**tailed**," replied the porcupine, laughing at his own joke.

Surprisingly, Miles also laughed. "I wonder what that would en-**tail** but since it's getting late, we'll have to cur-**tail** this conversation." When the others didn't laugh, looking very confused instead, he blinked puzzled. "Wasn't that funny?" he inquired with hesitation, a little unsure of himself.

The porcupine merely scratched his head, while his companion frowned. "Ok, kid, you got your chance," she spat, lunging to grab him. He easily sidestepped and she almost fell on her face. "Quit moving around!" she demanded, trying to punch him. His head reflexively tilted to the side.

One of his tails scratched his ear while he looked a bit skeptical. "You still haven't told me what you really want," he noted. The word 'creds' was apparently not part of his extensive vocabulary. "But this fake scar is not very well made. You should have painted the string over a bit more."

The male's quills bristled at that and he flushed in embarrassment. "Mock us, will you?" he snarled, also trying to hit him. This time, one of Miles' tails moved by reflex, taking the strike instead of his face.

Both vulpine and lupine looked at the porcupine confused. Said sentient mammal grew very pale, letting a cry of extreme pain and tightly holding his punching arm between his thighs.

"What's the matter, Bill?" asked the wolf, absently sniffing the air as if to find a clue of what had happened.

"It was... like... punching a steel wall," he gasped, tears running down his cheeks. "My fingers are broken!"

Miles, who had barely felt anything, peered at him quizzically. "I think there is a communication issue here," he noted casually.

The wolf girl bared her teeth and was ready to come at him again, when a very fast projectile passed between them, cracking the pavement and lodging deep inside. Both fox and wolf stood very still, gazing at what appeared to be an oldstyle wicker broom, apparently used as an impromptu javelin.

Porcupine and wolf turned very slowly to look at the thrower, their fears confirmed. "It's Vertigo!" they squeaked in unison, turning tail and bolting.

Miles didn't even hear them, studying the broom instead. "What kind of wood is it made of? To be hard enough to break through the tarmac, it must be very special. A mutated species perhaps?" he wondered aloud, never noticing the figure towering behind him.

**-s-t-h-**

The vixen, not that much older than the two would-be bullies, smirked a bit as she watched them scurrying away. Her attention was soon drawn to the diminutive fox kit that was apparently chatting with her broom.

Brow raised, she waited a bit, then addressed him. "You okay there, kid?"

Miles slightly tensed, finally noticing there was someone behind him. Turning, he blinked at the voice's owner. A female fox, not quite an adult, wearing a plain white vest, open in the middle, and trousers with a multitude of pockets. Slender but taller than most mobians, she towered above him larger than life.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked simply. There was no false pride, defensiveness or stubbornness in his voice, like she had expected. Instead he seemed to be oblivious to the fact he had almost been mugged.

"These two are notorious of taking advantage of smaller kids," she provided. "They usually know better than to do so in my turf," she added, brushing imaginary lint off her rich carmine arm fur.

Miles sighed, scratching his nose. "I'm still not sure what they wanted. Something about 'creds', though I don't know the word."

The older fox tried not to snicker. "Creds as in credits, kid. They basically wanted your money." While he processed that, she took the time to really study him, marveling at how he wasn't intimidated in the slightest of her. She also couldn't help but notice how young Miles was and how cute and cuddly his two tails looked.

In the meantime, the younger fox nodded in understanding. "It makes sense, though I don't see why they couldn't just ask for money in the first place. In fact, I can think of at least six other synonyms and..." He was cut in mid-sentence when she lunged at him, her serious persona evaporating faster than alcohol under the desert sun.

"So cute!" she declared while hugging him in a powerful grip and lifting him off the ground.

"Hug attack!" he gasped bewildered, futilely trying to squirm free.

"Now, what is a precious baby like you doing in the streets," she pondered, ignoring the fact she was squeezing the life out of him.

Miles managed to twist to a more comfortable position, valiantly trying to glare at her, ears flat against his skull. "I'm hardly a baby and I would appreciate to be returned to the ground," he sniffed, sounding thoroughly frazzled.

"So smart, too," she cooed, completely ignoring him. He proceeded to use his tails as levers and finally managed to detach himself from her grasp. She raised a brow at that, her original demeanor somewhat returning. "Really really strong, as well," she marveled.

Miles crossed his arms in indignation. "Says the person that can break the pavement with a broom end."

She smirked in response. "Fair enough, kid. Let's try this again. I'm Vertigo, Vertigo the Fox," she declared, extending her hand very formally.

"Miles Prower," he responded, taking her offered appendage with only a moment's hesitation. There was something about her that intrigued him, some instinct or hunch that demanded he learned more about her. A kinship that went beyond the fact she was a fox.

A different thought came to his mind after he took her name in. People that didn't know, didn't have or didn't want their surname, often used their species type as one. Some, especially the wealthy, scoffed at the practice, because it usually meant the individual was of no family worthy of mention. Combined with her first name, though, it made him think that wasn't quite the case.

"So, Vertigo, what's your real name, then?" he asked, catching her off guard. "No sane parents would name their kid 'Vertigo'", he explained.

The vixen glared at him a bit, sighing when it proved ineffective. "I left my real name behind when I came to this island, three years ago," she supplied, surprised with herself she was so open to him.

Miles nodded in understanding, deciding not to push the subject. There was a new piece of information that caught his attention, though. "Island?"

Vertigo eyed him curiously. "Sure. Cocoa Island. Mining, semi-autonomous colony of Central City. You didn't know that?"

The younger vulpine laughed awkwardly at that, one of his tails scratching the back of his head. "My circumstances have been a bit preternatural," he provided.

The vixen peered at him inquisitively. "I bet. I know many adults that don't even know what 'preternatural' means, never mind four-year-old kits." Miles stomach chose that moment to rudely announce its presence with an obnoxious growl. "However, it seems you have other priorities before explaining yourself," she added amused.

The two-tailed kit blushed at that. "Actually, I was looking for a place to eat,' he confessed.

Vertigo smiled widely, half-turning and indicating the structure behind her. 'The Fox Den', declared a large sign perched above the entrance. "Since I happen to be the owner of the only inn in town, I believe I'm your girl," she laughed.

Miles also laughed, albeit uneasily, for once a bit intimidated. It was very hard to picture her in a kitchen. "That's... cool, I guess," he chirped.

The vixen's smirk became almost feral. "Come into my parlor, Mr. Prower," she beckoned, absently retrieving her broom.

**-s-t-h**

Vertigo sat opposite of Miles, watching him with great amusement.

"So, yours is the only inn in town?" asked the fox in question while stuffing his face, tails waving happily behind him. Incredibly, he possessed just enough grace and timing to avoid looking too ridiculous and gross in the process. Despite his doubts, the other vulpine's cooking had proven to be superb.

The vixen's answer was affirmative. "There are another two small restaurants, but the 'Fox Den' is the only place where one can pay for a bed, too. Not that I see many customers. The place is hardly a tourist trap."

Miles nodded, a chicken leg hanging from his muzzle. The older mobian barely squelched her laughter at the spectacle. "And you said this is a mining colony?" he inquired after swallowing. He still remembered his quest for materials, after all.

Vertigo stretched a bit, her deep red fur gleaming in the ambient light that illuminated her inn's common room. "Sure. We mine iron, bauxite and titanium ore mainly. Sometimes there are traces of silver and gold. And of course, we are one of the few places that exports Power Rings."

The twotails' ears perked at that. Reaching at the pouch at his side, he retrieved one of his rings and showed it to her. "You mean these?" he asked, promptly resuming his meal.

His host picked it up, twirling it around her index, and it glowed for a while under her touch. "Yep. Called Power Rings, Magic Rings or, sometimes, Chaos Rings. They appear randomly all over the place and many people use them as money. I've heard a rumor that some researchers can actually draw power from these things, but I have no clue if it's true."

Miles debated telling her he actually owned one such generator, but in the end he decided against that. When Vertigo prompted him to take his ring back, he shrugged. "Keep it for the meal," he offered. At her astonished face, he gulped a bit. "Unless one is not enough," he went on, reaching once more for his pouch.

The older fox shook her head, very amused. "Miles, each of these has an exchange value of one thousand credits. That's many times the food's cost. And this was supposed to be on the house," she complained, pocketing the ring anyway when the other didn't seem interested in retrieving it.

The two-tailed vulpine raised a brow at that. "How do you even survive with such an attitude, never mind making money," he wondered, eyeing her critically.

"Perhaps I kidnap little kids and sell them in auctions," she riposted menacingly, rolling her eyes when Miles failed to be impressed. She figured the kit saw himself as anything but a little kid. "Actually, the inn is more like a hobby. In the rare event more than one people decide to stay here, I hire part-time help. No, my real job is fixing machines. Have a tinker shop next door. You wouldn't believe how often the junk that passes for mining equipment breaks."

The Prower prodigy beamed at her. "I'm pretty good with machines myself," he understated.

Vertigo eyed him critically and his excitement withered a bit. "If any other kid of four were to say that to me, I'd dismiss it as nonsense. With you, I can't be sure."

Miles felt as if someone had upended a bucket of freezing cold water on him. The smile of his face died a horrible death and he frowned, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the other vulpine. This was the first time someone doubted his technical skill and the feelings caused were very negative. Intellectually, he knew he was being silly and unfair to Vertigo, who didn't really know him, but he just couldn't help it.

The older fox blinked at the spectacle, marveling how both of his tails were slowly lashing behind him, how his ears had flattened completely against his skull and how his blue eyes burned with an inner fire to prove her wrong and/or attack her. Every single hair on his fur was standing at attention and he had unconsciously bared his teeth, a very rude thing to do in civilized company.

Vertigo suppressed a sigh. She had apparently found her new friend's weakness, hurting him in the process. Doctoring her voice to a soothing tone, she tried to placate him. "As soon as you finish your food, you can show me," she offered gently.

Miles' intensity wavered a bit at that, but failed to relent. He was still glaring at her, looking very miffed, caught between bursting in tears and lunging at her throat.

Time for extreme measures, she decided. "You look adorable when you are being a brat," she quipped, throwing him off balance and causing him to blink once in confusion. Taking her chance, she shot forward, her hand landing on his head, just between his ears, and gently petting him.

The transition was immediate. The tension evaporated from his body, his expression changing from astonished, to speculative, to blissful in under a second. "W-what?" he managed to utter, unable to concentrate due to the alien, dreamy sensation.

"Special fox weak point," she explained smugly. "Very few foxes and certainly no kit can resist it, if one rubs it in a special way. I should know. My mother always did that when I was having a fit."

"I... don't have... fits," tried Miles, unable to resist the pure bliss involved. His attempts to glare at her were futile. "I'll get you... for this," he promised while yawning, his treacherous body coming closer and leaning at her side.

Vertigo tried very hard not to laugh at how hollow the threat sounded. "Sure you will," she teased, just as the younger sentient fox started purring, feeling utterly sublime.

Miles was unaware how long she kept at it, but when she stopped, his eyes snapped open. He wasn't sure if he was about to yell at her for doing this or, rather, for stopping, but then he noticed she had tensed up, apparently glaring at her establishment's entrance.

"Yo, Vertigo," came a voice from said entrance, soon followed by its owner. He was a bird, probably a hawk hybrid, around her age but shorter, sporting dark green feathers and dressed in a white military uniform. What really caught the fox's attention, though, were the implants.

The older vulpine peered at him disdainfully. "Kukku the 16th," she sneered in contempt. Said bird's hands and feet had been replaced by implants that actually made him look sleeker and more imposing instead of a monstrosity. Miles noted in fascination how some of his fingers' skin had been preserved to avoid compromising his sense of touch.

The newcomer ignored Vertigo's acidic tone, saluting smartly. "Come on, babe. You of all people should call me Speedy. All my pals do."

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 3**

Losing part of a chapter due to computer problems and having to rewrite it is a huge annoyance. The new take never feels quite as good as the original. Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. I'm often astonished by how weak Tails is usually shown. Even Sega is very inconsistent in that respect. This is the same fox that can almost keep up with Sonic's speed, can fly and whose tails can shred through metal armor. The sheer strength involved in all these things would make most attempts at physical bullying from non-chaos users futile and downright comical.

Vertigo is the first semi-important OC here and I'm always weary about writing those. It's essential they don't steal the spotlight. Still, the game itself has no other outstanding characters except Tails, Speedy, his father and that clingy flicky bird. I need some semblance of a cast here.

Thank you all for reviewing. I'm glad the scene with the kids was unexpected. It means I'm doing something correctly here. I estimate another one or two chapters before the real, dark action starts.

Do take the time to state your opinion. I'm really eager to improve my writing skills.


	4. MachineOmen

**Chapter 4: Machine/Omen**

**-s-t-h-**

Miles got to observe his first staring contest, one between Vertigo the Fox and Imperial Battle Kukku the 16th, also know as Speedy.

He sighed when he realized staring contests were actually very dull for spectators. "Why are you here, Kukku?" demanded the vixen, trying to keep her temper in check.

Speedy completely ignored her tone, his beak set to a casual smirk. "Do I really need a reason to visit the town's fairest girl?" he offered.

Vertigo rolled her eyes. "Your pick up lines have the charm of pick-up trucks. Either order something, or get out."

The battlebird commander sighed, his visage drooping a bit. "Ham sandwich, orange juice," he replied, sounding a bit defeated. "We used to be friends, Ren. What changed?" his answer came in the form of a flying kitchen knife. Miles eyes goggled at that, although Speedy seemed to expect such a reaction, not even flinching when said knife passed him by, lodging deep into the wooden wall behind him.

"The name is Vertigo, bird," snapped said fox when she returned with his order, disk clattering on Speedy's table. "And this will be fifty," she added almost as an afterthought.

Kukku smiled a bit grimly, paying said amount and slowly sipping his drink. "I was in Central City three days ago. Passed by your family's mansion. They asked about you."

Miles' ears perked at that. While he was making his best to remain unseen without actually hiding, he was very interested in what hints concerning his host's past that casual conversation would reveal.

The vixen's eyes softened for a second, then returned to their hard, predatory glare. "How fascinating," she responded, sarcasm thickly dripping from her words. "It's not like they send a messenger every other week, trying to persuade me to return."

The green-feathered battlebird remained silent for a while, savoring his snack while absorbing her words. "Is it about my additions?" he asked at length, flexing his artificial hand. The younger fox was watching him intently, tails very still, longing to learn how his implants worked.

Vertigo was taken aback at that, first raising both brows, then regarding him as if he was an idiot. "You think I would shun you because of some augmentation?" she asked incredulously. "No, Kukku, your mech side is actually quite appealing. My problem is with the other half," she spat, fully expecting a riposte. When Speedy remained silent, she resumed her rant. "I never expected you'd leave your mother and join that monster you call father. I know some of the things the Battlebird Armada has done, even if you think you've covered your scrawny, feathered asses. You are one of them now, Speedy." The last sentence was delivered quietly, a striking contrast to her previous shouting. It was also the first time she addressed him by his chosen name.

The jade quasi-hawk closed his eyes, his face a blank mask. "I see," was his reply, voiced as plainly as a weather report.

"Why are you really here, Kukku?" demanded Vertigo when she realized Speedy's beak would stay silent.

The avian commander blinked, then sighed. "I'm looking for emeralds," he replied. Miles raised a brow at that. Speedy wasn't paying attention, but the vixen's tail, that had been lashing behind her in agitation, had lost its rhythm for a moment, indicating she had been momentarily stunned by the bird's answer.

"We do not mine emeralds," she replied flatly, her voice hinting she believed him to be an imbecile.

Speedy rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that. You know very well I'm talking about Chaos Emeralds."

Vertigo smirked. "That old legend? You've asked before, Kukku and I have told you before. There is no such thing as a Chaos Emerald."

Her old friend glared at her for the first time. "We know there is one in this town. And you of all people should be able to sense it."

When she outrightly ignored him, he shook his head, waved at her and left silently.

As soon as he was out of range, the female fox sighed deeply, absently rubbing her temples. "Are you ok, Vertigo?" asked Miles, speaking for the first time since Speedy had entered.

She was surprised by his voice, having forgotten he was there. Her frowning features melted to a cheeky smile. "Did you enjoy the show, shrimp?" she teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Miles tilted his head in confusion, missing the point. "No, not really. But what is the Battlebird Armada and the Chaos Emeralds?"

Vertigo's eyes changed to a glare, although he wasn't really the target of her ire. "They are a mercenary, paramilitary organization. Been around for ages. I've heard the first of them were deserters from some old army that was defeated centuries ago. They are little more than pirates and Speedy's father is their current leader." She sighed at that, her smile returning, albeit duller. "As for the emeralds, that's just some old fairytale. No importance whatsoever."

The kit accepted that, although he was still curious of hearing the story. His eyes chose that moment to wander around the cozy inn, happening for the first time upon a clock. "How can it be so late!" he exclaimed with a gasp. "It will be dark when I get home."

The other vulpine regarded him amused, falsely believing she knew his cause of agitation. "Your parents will give you a hard time, huh? I could come along and explain the situation."

Miles blinked at that. "My... parents?" he repeated, as if the words were alien. It suddenly occurred to him that ever since the first day he could remember, he hadn't even considered the possibility of having such a thing as parents. He knew, of course, that children were normally brought up inside a family with a mother, a father and perhaps other siblings. He had never thought to apply that knowledge to his own situation, however. "I don't have any."

As Vertigo's eyes went wide, Miles inwardly groaned. He could have smacked himself for blurting that before thinking it over. Depending on the vixen's reaction, he could have just gotten himself in big trouble.

"You live in the wilds?" she asked, apparently quite bewildered. "How do you survive?"

The younger fox eyed her curiously. "I **am** good with machines," he stated once more, daring her to doubt him. He was still a tad ticked about that. "I own a house a couple hours from here," he went on vaguely, not wanting to reveal an actual location.

Vertigo seemed to take that in, regaining her composure. "You can stay here if you want," she offered. "I mean, for tonight," she amended very fast when his brow almost disappeared inside his hair bangs. "You've already paid for that and more, after all."

Miles shrugged. "Thanks, but no thanks. I do have things to do back home," he replied, unwittingly sounding condescending. The vixen almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all. A kit of four years, comfortably surviving on its own!

Unfortunately for the vulpine prodigy, mother nature decided to throw a wrench to his well-oiled intentions. As he waved goodbye and took the first step outside Vertigo's inn, a drop of water landed directly on his nose, causing him to sneeze. His ensuing upward glare faded into disbelief as he beheld the formerly clear sky, now black with heavy rainclouds.

"Snap!" he intoned grumpily. "Perhaps if I hurry I can get home without..." As if on cue, the brewing storm started in earnest, drizzle turning to downpour in barely a heartbeat. "...getting wet," he finished miserably, spitting some of the water that had wormed itself through his lips.

"Just so you know, that offer of mine is still open," came Vertigo's voice from behind him, her tone unnaturally neutral.

Now drenched as a shipwrecked rat, Miles turned around, regarding her critically as she lithely leaned on her doorframe. Despite her words, he was not fooled for a second. After all, her mouth, nose, ears, eyes and whiskers were all silently laughing at him.

**-s-t-h-**

Vertigo left her bed groggily and not without a healthy amount of regret. Standing up, she peered through her window, assessing the sunlight's position. "I slept in again" she muttered, still not entirely awake.

The last vestiges of sleep were rudely ripped away, however, courtesy of an explosion that rocked the whole structure around her. Eyes wild, she dashed downstairs, guessing correctly the source of the problem was located in her workshop.

Part of her mind had expected the scene, but, for once, reality proved to be more intense than imagination. While the booming sound had been deceptively loud, only a corner of her workspace was really affected. Standing there, amidst the quickly dispersing smoke, stood a tiny, blackened fox, blinking dumbly at the explosion's apparent epicenter.

"Miles!" she exclaimed, frantically checking him for any damage. Apart from the copious amounts of soot, he seemed to be unharmed.

The other vulpine turned to regard her, raising a brow at her appearance before a sheepish smile adorned his face. "Whoops," he responded, rather unnecessarily, rubbing the back of his head.

Having verified he was healthy, she glared at him. "What happened?" she demanded exasperated, inspecting the disaster area. On the workbench before them were the unrecognizable remains of some device, along with two intact Power Rings.

"Apparently, trying to draw power from two rings at the same time needs further research," he replied in a professional tone, nodding to himself.

"Two rings! We don't even know how to draw from one!"

Miles blinked at that, absently dusting his fur. "I figured that out hours ago. I hope you don't mind that I read some of your notes. You were half-way there."

"My notes?" she repeated, feeling faint. She had been trying to use rings as a power source and had actually made some progress, but it had taken her months to reach what the younger fox had referred to as 'half-way'. "Let me see!"

Hands trembling, she skimmed through the notes that had somehow been spared from the blast. She reached the end of her writing, then scanned the rest, gawking all the while. "This... this is amazing! With this we could power the whole town for a year, with only four rings!"

Shaking his head, Miles sighed. "Not so easy, as my little accident shows. Any more than one and it all melts away. I'm not even kidding, the whole thing melted before blowing up, and not from heat. The metal merely liquefied like mercury. In fact..."

Vertigo shook her head, interrupting him. "Never mind that. You did in a few hours what would have taken me months!"

The other fox blushed at the praise. "I did... some other things, too," he replied abashed. Under her inquisitive stare, he went on. "I repaired one of the mining drills. You were right about being junk, but I improved it just a bit and it should hold for another two months or so before breaking again." Apparently, Miles was unaware such machinery normally needed weekly maintenance. "Also, I solved your explosives problem."

The vixen regarded him curiously, feeling very overwhelmed and just a bit jealous. Some of the miners had asked her for an easy and safe way to carry explosives and deploy them without bringing down their tunnels. She had recorded the request in her notes, the same notes the young kit had apparently studied.

"Miles, how long have you been up. Did you even sleep?" she inquired, very curious.

The smaller vulpine did something rare for him. He appeared uneasy. "I just woke up early. It's not like the thunderstorm woke me up or anything. Thunders are like a walk in the shark, I mean, park," he replied, completely spilling the beans.

The grin on Vertigo's face almost split her face in twain. "Little Milesy is afraid of lightning?" she teased, exaggerating a baby voice.

Cheeks so red they almost glowed under his fur, the other fox ignored her and went on. "Anyway, this is the solution," he said, offering her a single white glove. Torn between getting another rise from him and actually learning what his little gadget did, she received it gingerly, studying it all the while. "Go on, wear it," he prompted.

She did so, noticing that there was something jiggling inside the unusually large ring that was supposed to go around her wrist.

"Now click your middle and fourth fingers together twice," instructed Miles, trying his best not to look as smug as he felt, tails writhing excited. The vixen complied, watching in amazement as a tiny black sphere, no larger than a pea, was shot from the glove's ring, sticking in the middle of her palm and rapidly growing is size.

"Is this..." she tried, regarding the item that was now big as a bowling ball.

"A bomb," finished the other mobian gleefully. "It will only blow up at contact with anything but the glove itself, as long as it's safely away from you. Come on. Toss it in the middle of the room!"

Nodding and feeling quite dumbfounded, she threw the bomb, jumping a bit at the intense, yet very contained explosion. Ideal for rickety mineshafts.

"You know, Miles," she addressed him after a full minute of silence, her voice ambiguous. "I'm not sure whether to kiss you or strangle you. If you stick around here any longer, there won't be anything for me to do anymore."

The two-tailed kit nodded as he smiled at her. "Don't worry, you still have your uses," he joked, before regarding her intently. "Vertigo, shouldn't you put some clothes on? Your fur alone is not nearly enough to cover everything," he advised with all the innocence of a four-year-old.

Said vixen yelped, her face flushing to match the rest of her fur. For once embarrassed, she sprinted back to her room. As for Miles, his amused visage remained intact for the rest of the day, even as his tails did their best to dust him clean.

**-s-t-h-**

Two weeks later and Miles had just woken up, busily performing his daily food gathering. Today's breakfast was coconuts, clams and whatever bird had been caught in the snares he had set last day. Just enough to satisfy the ravenous hunger of the growing kit.

"So, what do you think about her offer, Vortex?" he chirped merrily. His tail failed to respond, yet he went on. "At first I thought this place was neat, but Vertigo is really cool. And she made sure there won't be any pesky adoptions or anything like that, I'll just live in her inn and help her around her workshop."

The vixen had been very hesitant when making that offer, during Miles' third visit, frantic she would scare him away. Instead, he had simply told her he'd think about it.

Stopping his chores a bit, the kit cradled Hurricane, his other tail. "Of course, I'm not sure whether her neighbors will be as hospitable. One of this place's perks is that I can cause as many explosions as I like and none will be bothered."

"But, no fear, I have all the time in the world to decide," he concluded, his eyes instinctively turning towards Poloy's general direction.

The thick plume of pitch-black smoke that greeted him, placed a frown on his face. "What could that be?" he wondered. A sudden feeling of dread filled his being, a certainty something was utterly, hideously wrong.

With little contemplation and forsaking his current task, he turned towards the city and ran, every instinct screaming at him to hurry up and tails waving behind him in an attempt to give him even an ounce of extra speed.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 4**

And thus the prologue is complete and the true story can start. After all, why would Tails fight otherwise, without something to feel fond towards. Some thought these chapters were filler? Ye of little faith ;D Every scene of mine serves a purpose, be it for character development or for plot advancement.

I am aware the chapters are somewhat small, around 2-4K words, but it's easier to update. I've been experimenting with that. My first (now hideous) story had chapters 15K long...

Unfortunately, the next chapter will be late. My annual disappearance act will soon take place and I'll be in the land of No-Network for a long while.

Until then, thank you for the support!


	5. BattleAdept

**Chapter 5: Battle/Adept**

**-s-t-h-**

Miles reached the town of Poloy in record time. The previous feeling of dread had gradually crystallized into terrible certainty. What had seemed like a solitary stack of smoke, had turned out to be a collection of many. Poloy was burning like firewood.

The first buildings he encountered had an interesting tale to tell. It was no accident, but a malicious will behind the destruction. The young fox could clearly see traces of explosives, remains of missiles and bullet casings scattered everywhere.

The first sight that made him halt, however, were the bodies. Up until then, he had been hoping, very naively, that everyone had gotten out, that the calamity around him had only caused structural damage. Not the case at all, since people of all breeds had already embraced the final equality only death can bring.

Very hesitantly, he approached one of the lifeless husks that had only recently been another sentient being, a blue kangaroo, the scent of fresh death nearly overwhelming his mind. Then the vulpine felt a shift inside him, a wave of cold logic washing over his fast-panicking psyche. His hands stop trembling and he glanced at the victim openly.

"Multiple bullet wounds, but nothing immediately fatal," he whispered. "Probably died due to loss of blood."

His medical knowledge was only rudimentary, he concluded idly, actually somewhat relieved his scientific expertise was not universal. Panic started reasserting itself, however, when he took a mental step back and realized that anyone else could have died along with the strangers lying around him. The children he had actually played with twice, or even…

"Vertigo!"

After that thought, he completely disregarded fatigue, caution or the gruesome scenes around him, dashing towards the vixen's inn. Once again he reached unnaturally fast and once again he encountered a nightmarish vision. The whole structure had collapsed upon itself, resembling little more than a pile of debris.

Before his stunned mind could think of anything relevant, he was alerted by what sounded like combat. Head snapping to the side, he recognized one of the combatants by scent, milliseconds before visual confirmation came. Vertigo, looking a bit ruffled but otherwise very alive, was facing what seemed like a mech-riding avian mobian, probably a duck hybrid. The unusual vehicle was quite small, almost like a powersuit, and seemed pretty clunky and slow, while it still packed an impressive arsenal, including an oversized cannon.

Before Miles could decide whether calling the other fox would fatally distract her, the enemy bird attacked, first by a stream of gattling fire that she somehow leaped away from, then with a micro-missile that, judging by her face, had caught her off-guard.

The young kit watched with despair as the explosive projectile hit the ground close to her and detonated, engulfing the other vulpine in a cloud of fire and smoke.

"Vertigo!" he shouted again, at the top of his lungs, attracting the attention of the battlebird troop.

"Another struggler," he groused, sounding annoyed and turning his mech to aim at the new target.

Miles did not hear him. In fact, he was completely disconnected from reality, his mind playing the last seconds again and again. Realization hit him like lightning, his vast repository of knowledge numbly providing that no known unprotected lifeform could have survived an almost direct explosion of that magnitude. Then despair turned to wrath; raw, blinding rage. Something inside him stirred. 'Use me,' it demanded.

He did so.

The mech pilot blinked in disbelief as the tiny kit, in his mind a harmless target, roared in defiance, a power ring clenched tightly in its grasp, then leaped from the ground with unreal force and speed, clearing an abnormal distance and landing just before him, puny fist leading the way.

Flesh and bone met armor and steel. Beyond all prediction, the bulletproof layer of armor shattered and Miles' clenched, glowing hand dug deeply inside the machine, encountering feathered flesh, yet hardly stopping. The crunching of bone that followed was surreal to both of them. The bird mobian was way too stunned and way to injured to think of anything else, but the fox was jolted back into control by a sight that made his eyes grow wide.

Focusing at the mess of armor shards and circuits his attack had left behind, he watched in morbid fascination as a large, severed wire sparked ominously close to a ruptured, leaking tube.

'What kind of a poophead designs the main power line next to the main fuel line?' was the last conscious thought he managed, along with a mental note to never commit such a blunder in his own creations. Then everything went blank.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles woke up very slowly, utterly not in the mood of regaining consciousness. The soothing moist rug that wiped his brow, however, made him wonder. Why could he feel it if he was dead?

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the hopeful face of Lily, the purple and pink mongoose that had first invited him to play with the rest of Poloy's children. "You're up!" she yipped, barely able to contain her elation. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, he noticed, and her clothes were grimy even by her standards. Discarding the wet rug she had been using on him, she hugged the fox with near desperation while simultaneously hopping up and down..

She would have stayed like that, if not for an older green rabbit that pulled her back. "Don't crowd him, Lily. He just came round." Miles had never seen Arnold looking so weary or serious. He also sported a couple of nasty bruises, although he didn't seem to currently care.

Alicia, also present, helped him to return to his feet. For the first seconds he felt very dizzy, but the feeling soon subsided. "You were incredible back there, Miles," cheered the weasel. "Figures you'd prove to be an adept."

Finally regaining his wits, the diminutive vulpine regarded her carefully. "What's an 'adept'," he inquired, his tails stretching behind him.

"A Chaos adept," came a voice from behind him and he jumped, half startled, half incredulous. The voice was easily recognizable in his mind.

"Vertigo! But you were caught in the explosion! I thought you were…" he tried frantically, not daring to finish that sentence, lest she proved to be a figment of his imagination.

The older vulpine sighed, clasping and rubbing his shoulder with nervous affection, almost painfully. She started to say something, then stopped, regarding the rest of the children, almost a dozen, that were valiantly trying to look as if they weren't eavesdropping. "Walk with me, Miles," she requested with a tiny trickle of amusement, her tone and glare making it clear none was to follow.

The building they were hiding in was ruined, yet surprisingly intact compared to the rest of the town. They walked down a corridor and through a door, and only then did the vixen feel they had enough privacy.

"What happened?", demanded the kit, this time firmly, hands defensively folded on his chest.

Vertigo sighed again, absently caressing her arm, where a half-healed burn was visible. "The Battlebird Armada attacked Poloy," she explained, grimacing as if the words themselves were sour. "I interrogated one of them. Apparently, they have decided to stop playing nice and eradicate all witnesses before combing the whole island to look for the Chaos Emeralds. Otherwise, they'd have to ask and get permission from Central City, an impossible feat."

Miles blinked. "But you said the Chaos Emeralds are a fairytale," he complained.

In response, she reached inside one of her oversized pockets, retrieving a certain very impressive item. At the same time she released the mental hold she had been keeping on said item, causing its power to flux. "I lied," she stated bluntly.

The prodigious kit barely registered the words. His eyes went wide open and unblinking, tails waving behind him mesmerized. The glowing gem in Vertigo's hands was colored a rich crimson red, while its size barely allowed it to fit into her palm. It was a stunning jewel, of course, but there was more to it than that. Its mere proximity invoked a feeling of power in Miles' body, a siren's call to reach out and touch it. He did so and as soon as he made contact, a rush of power washed through his very soul, filling him with energy beyond his imagination. He felt mighty, invincible, omniscient, the world around him nothing more and nothing less than fuel for his whims.

When Vertigo pulled the Emerald away, he gasped in disbelief, his limbs feeling like jelly. His whole body protested the lack of contact and he would have collapsed without the vixen's support. "Easy there," she spoke gently, rubbing his back fur while he recovered. "Only a Chaos adept can feel it so strongly and, by your reaction, you are more aware than most."

"Amazing," he whispered, not even considering to ask why it was called an emerald despite its ruby color. "Is this why they attacked?"

The other vulpine nodded. "Cocoa Island is where the seven emeralds were sealed during the ancient times. The legends say that the one that has all of them has access to unlimited power. The battlebirds must never find them. If they do…"

Miles glanced outside through a window, at the ruined town, parts of it still smoking. "I see. Anyone who resorts to something like this unprovoked… How did you survive that missile, though? For the matter, how did I survive the blast?"

Vertigo looked away at that. "We are both Chaos adepts and as such, we have certain special powers. You instinctively used a Power Ring to strengthen yourself and attack. It shielded you from the explosion before dissipating. I also had a few on me and I only suffered a few burns, most of which are already healed," she replied, her voice almost droning while her fingers once again poked at her rapidly mending injury. "Strength, speed, endurance, regeneration. Chaos adepts are rare, but among us, these traits are commonplace."

The two-tailed fox looked down. "The battlebird I attacked?" he asked hesitantly. They both knew the answer to that.

The older adept kneed down and hugged him. Intellectually, he was her superior and they both knew it, but emotionally, he was still only a bit more mature than a kit of four years. Despite that, she didn't mince words. "He is dead. You probably hit him hard enough to shatter his spine, but even if he had survived that, the explosion finished him off. You saved my life and the lives of the kids back there, Miles. I was trying to hide them when they found us. That missile didn't kill me, but it sure knocked me out of it for a good four minutes."

Miles sniffed a bit, but didn't cry. "I killed him, yet I don't feel as horrible as I should," he confessed. "Mostly, I'm relieved you and the rest survived."

Vertigo nodded satisfied, managing a weak smile. "We Chaos adepts are made of sterner stuff than that, physically and emotionally, which is good. I'll probably need your help to get them out of this alive."

His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "My help?" he exclaimed disbelievingly. It was plain on his face he considered his brief battle to be a fluke,

The vixen nodded while grinning a bit. "Miles, you are a powerful adept. With hardly any training, you are as capable as I am, perhaps more." Her face fell a bit after that. "I might be able to take care of myself, but also protecting a mob of terrified children is beyond me. They barely hold it together, you know, they are not like us."

"What about the rest?" he asked hopefully.

Shaking her head, Vertigo regarded him with pity. "There are probably no others, shrimp," she responded quietly.

The other vulpine glared at her. "How can you say that?" he asked angrily. "If we have survived, others should have too."

In response, her fist shot forward, burying itself into a wall. The otherwise sturdy material seemed flimsy under her power, a reminder of how different they were. "You don't get it, do you? " she riposted harshly. "These bastards have been ordered to clear the island. As in, eradicate anything sentient other than themselves. They have weapons and sensors and superior numbers. If we Chaos adepts struggle to survive, the common folks have no chance at all!" She shouted. "Odds are, these children back there are all orphans by now. It's up to us to get them out!" Taking a deep breath, she seemed to deflate, her ears drooping. "I'm sorry to thrust something like that on you, Miles, but I need help."

The two-tailed kit sighed, closing his eyes and wishing he could wake up from the mess at hand. When reality failed to dissolve around him, though, he looked at her, managing a determined smile. Reaching for her hand, he took it in an attempt to reassure her. "It's okay, Vertigo. You are right. If we can't do it, no one can. Tell me how to help and I'll do my best."

In response, the vixen tossed him a familiar item, his bomb glove. "Until you learn how to use your powers, keep this… handy," she advised, allowing a bit of amusement in the otherwise somber situation. "I know you intended it for mining, but it works wonders against battlebird armor."

He nodded grimly, switching it with his normal glove at once. "I can give you some rings if you need them," he responded, indicating the pouch at his side. Suddenly, he was very glad he had been wearing it constantly.

She shook her head at that. "Keep them. I have my own. For now we will wait until the other kids can get some rest. They are all so tired they barely stay awake. When the sun is about to set, we'll move. I know a couple of safe places close by."

They returned to the others soon enough, explaining their intentions. Some of the older children valiantly tried to put up a tough front. In the end, the only people still awake were Miles and Vertigo, keeping their silent vigil.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles had almost dozed away when the explosion reached his ears, banishing sleep at once through copious amounts of adrenaline. He scanned his surroundings, making sure the scared children around him were safe. "Stay out of sight," he ordered, a bit harsher than he intended. Not waiting for any kind of affirmation, he dashed towards the continuing sounds of battle, tails lashing behind him to give him a speed boost, fervently hoping not to see Vertigo in the middle of the commotion.

Vertigo was right in the middle of the commotion.

Apparently, five battlebirds in mech armor had spotted their hiding place and the vixen, that had presumably been patrolling close by, had engaged them at once. He watched mesmerized as she expertly dodged the enemy fire, Power Ring in her hand glowing along with the rest of her body. Landing in front of a mech, she performed a leg swipe that was strong enough to topple the much heavier machine, rendering the trooper inside helpless. Not bothering to finish him off, the vixen leaped away just as the projectile salvos from the rest of her enemies did the job for her, ripping through the downed armor and causing it to be consumed in an explosion of fuel fire.

Miles decided he had to help. While there were only four battlebirds remaining, they were all very alert and very weary of Vertigo, her advantage of surprise gone. With all four of them working together, she would have been hard-pressed to defeat them.

Remembering his glove, the kit clicked his fingers together twice, taking a deep breath before lobbing a bomb to the nearest enemy. The explosive projectile struck true, reducing the battlebird's back armor to molten slug. Trying very hard to ignore his enemy's cries of pain, Miles threw a second bomb, finishing the deed.

The three remaining birds turned as one, gawking in disbelief at their dead companion. Vertigo took advantage of that, speeding behind one of them, glowing gloved hands leading the way. With lots of effort, her fingers dug through the metal plating, creating handholds she exploited at once. With one foot bracing against the rest of the machine, she ripped part of the armor off the mech, revealing the now terrified bird inside. Not wasting a second, she used that same armor piece, driving one of its jagged ends through the mech's owner, impaling him fatally.

The two enemies left, visibly very unnerved, judging by the choppy moves of their vehicles, retreated together, fighting side by side and activating their meches' flamethrowers. Two thick streaks of fire, each aimed for each fox, were their last, frantic attempt to keep the duo at bay.

Miles and Vertigo landed next to each other after dodging, safely out of the weapons' range. "They are desperate. The flamers only last a little while before overheating. We can't let them go. We must keep as much of our abilities as possible a secret from the rest."

The younger vulpine nodded, his mind completely focused on the fight at hand. "You distract them, I attack," he proposed laconically.

Seconds later, he had launched a bomb right at the flamethrower's stream, creating an effective, and audible, smokescreen. When the smog cleared away, both birds noticed that the older vixen had taken the opportunity to approach. They unloaded the entirety of their arsenal on her, hitting her a couple of times, yet hardly stopping her. A heartbeat later, a bomb collided with one of the meches' back, curtsey of Miles that had sneaked behind them, blowing the vehicle up at once.

The last battlebird, an eagle breed that sported real wings in addition to his normal arms, was scared out of his wits by then, abandoning his armor and using said wings to try and fly to safety. "Requesting immediate back up," he squeaked to his portable communicator. "Unit 57 has been eliminated. Subjects are…" He was cut off, when a hefty piece of flying masonry smashed his head into pieces.

Vertigo recovered from her throwing pose, breathing heavily and turning to regard her companion. Miles was also panting, but his eyes were glued to the body of that last enemy, whose downed remains were soaking the earth red. The young vulpine collapsed to his knees, letting a few dry heaves before wrapping his tails around his body tightly.

The older mobian approached him slowly, ignoring her fast-healing injuries, lifting and hugging him gently. "I'm so sorry, Miles, but we are not done yet", she apologized.

The two-tailed fox seemed to snap out of his funk and wiped the tears off his face. "I didn't mean to lose it like that," he responded a bit sheepishly.

She smiled a bit at that, landing a kiss on his cheek. "Listen to me carefully, Miles," she started after returning him to the ground. "We can't remain here now, they'll come to check the area. I'll stay here to distract them while you'll lead the rest of the kids away. Our best bet is the airport. I don't believe there is any of the blimps left there, but that area is both out of the way and close to the river, where we can hide."

He blinked at that, regarding her carefully. "But you'll be alone," he complained, grasping her hand tightly. Only after thinking she had died did he realize how close a friend he had come to regard her, after only a small period of time. "And what blimps?" he added as an afterthought.

She sighed, a bit amused, ruffling his head fur and causing his ears to twitch in annoyance. "Transporter blimps. And I'll be fine, shrimp," she responded. "I'll just make a lot of racket and flee."

He was not convinced. "If they catch you…" he started, only to be cut short when Vertigo placed her scarlet Chaos emerald in his hands. It took him a few moments to snap away from its hypnotic effect and when he did, he raised a brow at the vixen's direction.

"Keep it safe and out of their hands," she ordered.

He thought about arguing, but her eyes were resolute. "Just… just stay safe," he implored, his eyes lowering, suddenly feeling very young.

"Right back at you!" she joked, rudely flicking his nose and breaking the serious mood. Ignoring his indignant glare, she saluted smartly and went out of sight.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 5**

And so I return to this story with a chapter that comes dangerously close to an M rating. I believe the action will become faster from now on, since I'll soon be entering the game's actual story, or at least what little story exists. I hope my absence hasn't dulled your interest too much. As far as the powers Tails exhibits go, they are but a pittance compared to what he does in later games. The battlebirds might be technologically advanced, but they are nowhere near Robotnik's level. For example, it would take about 6 of Tails' bombs to destroy one of the doctor's mass production robots. There is a reason GUN and the rest of the world can hardly touch him.

Until next chapter.


	6. FlyShield

**Chapter 6: Fly/Shield**

**-s-t-h-**

Miles did not lose a second, bursting into the room the others were waiting like a tornado and scaring them to the ends of their wits. Ignoring their halfhearted complains, he turned to the two oldest, Arnold and Alicia. "Do you know where the airport is?" he asked urgently.

Rabbit and weasel looked at each other, then nodded back at the fox. "It's behind the South Hill," replied Arnold. "We often go there to watch for the blimps."

The vulpine raised a brow at that, remembering Vertigo's brief mention. "The blimps?" he echoed.

Alicia nodded. "They use blimps to get the ore to Central City, because Rocky's Sea is… rocky," she explained a bit sheepishly.

Miles shook his head. "Anyway, we will make our way to the airport," he declared eyeing the rest of the children. They were hungry, dirty, scared and seemed a lot younger than before in his eyes. "Try to keep up, but stay hidden," he ordered, with enough authority to amaze even himself.

"You think our parents will be there?" asked one of the other kids hopefully, an orange-feathered ostrich.

"They must be," responded a brown-haired human child. "It's close to the mines and most of our dads work there."

The two-tailed genius tried very hard to ignore these questions. However much he might have wanted to deny it, he knew that the chances anyone else had survived were past slim and fast approaching none.

"What about the fox lady?" asked Lily, a bit shyly.

Miles sighed, trying to keep his ears from flattening. "She'll come later," he explained, although it sounded more like a plea to his ears. "Let's move it!" he finished, a bit harshly, making sure there were no other objections.

As they ran, one of his hands was always close to his pouch, which now contained a Chaos Emerald in addition to his rings. While he was getting used to the gem's staggering effect, its presence was as clear to his senses as the sun's glow. It gave off a soothing effect that made him feel braver than he was.

He soon realized he had grown faster than he was a day ago, although he was unsure if that happened because of the crimson Emerald or because of his realized powers. Regardless, he was forced to keep his pace slow enough for the others to follow. After five solid minutes of running, he scooped a very exhausted Lily off her feet, ignoring her very out-of-breath complains. He pensively noted he didn't even feel winded, never mind the added weight. If fact, he calculated he could have lifted all of them and still run faster, if only there was a way to hold onto so many people with his tiny hands.

As they circled around the South Hill, Miles kept his acute senses very alert, both to avoid battlebird patrols and to bypass areas where the dead bodies piled high. It wouldn't do for the children, now his charges, to happen upon any familiar faces. By their lack of reaction, he once again realized just how beyond them his abilities were. He had to stop, however, when he first saw the blimps. Six giant white balloons were hanging in the air, secured with heavy ropes and carrying large open containers full with mined rocks.

Looking back at the panting children, he decided it was high time for a break. Setting an embarrassed Lily on her feet, he was about to say so, when his ears registered danger. "Hide!" he whispered urgently, while physically shoving them towards another derelict building. As soon as they were out of sight, he carefully crept towards the source of his alarm.

Walking in the open were two battlebird troopers in mech armor, chatting obliviously. His tails almost tied in a nervous knot, the vulpine silently approached close enough to listen.

"This must be the most boring mission I've ever done," complained one of them. "These chumps died entirely too easily.

The other shrugged. "A job is a job, Bert," he replied, a bit condescendingly.

"I wish we were at least allowed to pop these balloons," whined the first. Miles could see one of his fingers caressing the trigger on his vehicle's control stick.

The second one chuckled. "Follow the orders, you damn pyro. The blimps fly on auto-pilot and are already loaded. Letting them return to Central City will give us two extra weeks of free reign before GUN learns we sacked the place."

His companion sighed. "We don't need three weeks to search this stupid island. We killed everyone in a few hours, remember? I'll turn on the life sensor and there won't be anything on the screen. See? Noth… Wait! What the…?"

The two-tailed vulpine was already moving, ring in his left hand and bomb in his right. The black explosive went flying, hitting the first battlebird and reducing armor and flesh to an indecipherable blackened mess. Hardly stopping, Miles leaped towards the second enemy, who was already pressing his trigger. Golden ring led the way, smashing through the mech's reinforced canopy and slicing the birds neck, releasing a spray of blood that painted the fox's glove a dark crimson.

Not sparing a glance, the vulpine returned to the children's hiding place, a plan forming in his mind. "Alicia," he started, ignoring their incredulous stares. "Are there any food stores around here?" he asked.

"Miles! You are injured!" cried the while weasel, her face a mask of horror.

Said fox blinked in confusion, then followed her gaze at his shoulder. A bullet was lodged there, although it hadn't quite managed to go completely through his skin. His blood had already clotted around it, leaving little more than a reddish stain on his fur. Gulping audibly, he gingerly touched the bullet, then suddenly tugged at it, ripping the malformed projectile right out of his flesh. The tiny hole left behind only bled for a few seconds, but he was too busy wincing in pain to notice. Without the battle's adrenaline singing in his veins, the hurt came to him in full force.

"Almost, but not quite bulletproof," he muttered, absently discarding the bullet in his grasp.

"Are you alright?" demanded Alicia, having swallowed her revulsion.

He smiled weakly at the gawking eyes of the rest of the children. "Chaos adept here," he reminded them, a bit sheepishly. Uneasy laughter was sparked by his words, but he figured it was better than nothing. "A food store?" he asked again, not sure if he had enough time to implement his plan.

"There is one two blocks from here," replied Arnold, pointing towards the right direction.

Miles nodded in gratitude. "We need to go there. And not only because all of us are starving," he explained. This was followed by an orchestra of growling stomachs as well as more laughter, this time a bit more sincere. The fox sighed in relief. He needed them to remain as far from panic and fear as possible.

Soon, they were crowded inside a small convenience store. The young mobians hesitated a bit, but Miles was fast to explain to them that the owner wouldn't object and that they were free to eat what they could. Leaving behind the ensuing storm of torn wrappings and filling bellies, the prodigious vulpine wandered away from the food section, making it a point to ignore said owner, who was dead behind his counter.

He returned carrying a pile of sturdy rucksacks, spilling them before the rest of his friends. "Each of you take two of them. Fill one with food and the other with water bottles," he instructed. He soon realized that full bellies made things happen faster. Some of the older children even took it upon themselves to help the younger ones.

Arnold and Alicia took Miles to the side, both looking very serious. "You are the leader here, but we want to know the plan," started the white weasel quietly.

The green rabbit sighed, absently rubbing the scar on his ear. "Unlike the rest, we know our… families are likely dead," he went on, his voice breaking a bit as he visibly held back tears. "You and Vertigo knew that from the start, didn't you?" he continued, almost hoping Miles would not agree.

The two-tailed vulpine sighed heavily, not daring to look them in the eyes, ears flattening. "Vertigo said we should wait here, then go and hide by the river. But I overheard the battlebirds saying they wouldn't shoot down the blimps, to gain some time. These will be our ride out of here. We can safely escape to Central City and tell everyone what happened."

Alicia blinked at that, smiling a bit. "Ride the blimps! That's cool!" she exclaimed, blushing a bit at her outburst. Both Miles and Arnold mirrored her smile.

Arnold beamed at him. "That's why you told us to get so much food and water. The ride is almost a week long."

The fox nodded. "I hope it will be enough, but I don't know how to climb to them yet," he confessed.

The green rabbit grinned. "That's easy. There are always rope ladders hanging from them. All of us can climb rope ladders, even Lily."

The female mobian nodded. "The blimps leave at midnight by their own," she supplied.

Miles eyed a clock hanging from the wall above them. The sun was completely gone by now, but he hadn't dared to switch any lights on. "We'll leave at eleven," he decided. "Any earlier and they might notice us, any later and we'll miss the chance. Until then, let's get everyone to rest," he went on, relieved the two older kids were there to help him.

**-s-t-h-**

No one was around to see a dozen tiny figures that scurried through the dark, each carrying at least one backpack, but even an alert guard would have been hard-pressed to spot them with only starlight as a light source. None of the moons was visible.

Miles was leading the progression, casually carrying seven of the bags himself and resembling a moving pile of luggage rather than a fox. He still stayed very alert, though, all of his senses peeled to notice anything amiss. Fortunately, the ruined town around them was silent and no battlebirds were around.

They reached the airport and the dirigible docks soon, with half an hour to spare. The containers hanging from the great balloons were already full, the machinery designed to load the ore mercifully inactive. The fox quickly chose the newest looking craft, taking a second to admire the side thrusters that were meant for both steering and accelerating. Pushing down a crazy thought about dismantling one of them on the spot to see how they worked, he carefully approached. Locating the ladder in the dark was easy for his sharp eyes and he climbed up first, making sure there was enough space.

"Hurry up!" he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. Arnold and Alicia nodded to each other, ushering the younger children first. Miles helped Lily up, smiling to cheer her up. The mongoose girl seemed to be a bit afraid of heights.

"Will we be alright, Miles?" she asked weakly, hugging him for comfort while eyeing the drab interior of the container. The place was not meant for passengers, but they'd have to make do.

The vulpine hugged her back awkwardly. In reality, he was a bit younger than her, which made the whole situation absurd. Yet another indication of how different from the norm he was. "No worries Lily. We'll be fine," he whispered.

She would have dozed on him then and there, but he had to let go to check on the rest. Satisfied, he nodded to himself as the weasel and the rabbit climbed up after everyone else was on board.

"This is actually working!" exclaimed Alicia as the blimp's engines started making noise. Miles knew they would need to heat up for a while, but they had still cut it very close.

"The rest is up to you now," he declared, drawing every eye on his person.

"Wha-what do you mean 'up to us'?" stuttered Arnold, his voice mirroring the feelings of the rest.

The tiny vulpine sighed. "I'm not coming with you," he explained. "I'm not leaving Vertigo behind and there might be others hiding somewhere." He also wasn't ready to leave his house and especially his inventions behind, although he kept that reasoning to himself.

Many of the children appeared crestfallen, while Lily burst into tears, attempting to hug him again and keep him with her. This time, he regrettably dodged the motion, so fast the rest blinked in disbelief.

"See? I'll be fine by my own, until you can tell everyone what happened here," he proclaimed, not feeling nearly as confident as he sounded. "Goodbye, everyone," he added, feeling his own eyes moistening and mentally scolding himself. Before anyone could try and deter him, he leaped off the blimp just before it started to move. The landing was a bit awkward, but, on par with his powers, he remained unharmed.

"Nice try, brat," came a wheezing, distorted voice from behind him. He turned at once, gawking in disbelief at its owner. It was a bleeding battlebird trooper, riding a mech armor with a broken canopy, the same one he thought he had killed earlier. His throat was still injured, but he could now see the glint of wires sparkling from within. Miles berated himself for not figuring out his enemy was a cyborg. The kit had noticed his blood had been a bit darker than normal, but had foolishly ignored it.

The injured bird placed a demented grin on his face, turning and aiming his cannon at one of the moving balloons, the one the children were riding. One of Miles' bombs was already flying at him when the missile left its muzzle.

The avian trooper was consumed in the blast, this time utterly dead, but Miles hardly paid any attention to that. He was already in mid-jump, trying to intercept the missile. What he would do after that, he had no idea, but in his mind, it didn't matter.

Milliseconds later, he calculated the self-propelled projectile was just too high for him to reach. Even worse, he had dropped his pouch at some point, which meant there would be no ring or emerald intervention. Still, he tried to somehow force his body through the air. His tails started to beat faster than the normal eye would register, but it was still not enough. Then he felt the sensation of Chaos running through his very cells, focusing at the twin appendages above his rear.

Bones cracked and realigned themselves, while skin and flesh writhed and transformed, although, surprisingly, the excruciating pain such an occurrence should have caused was somehow blocked. He still felt the bases of his tails shifting and reforming, but he didn't lose sight of his objective, the missile bound to murder his recent friends.

A blink later, he was traveling upwards faster than ever, his twin tails spinning behind him like a demented propeller. He went so fast, he almost passed the projectile, but at the last moment, he kicked with all the power he could muster, astonishingly deflecting the missile. The shock caused it to detonate almost at once and he was caught in the explosion.

It felt like a scorching hot wall of fire hitting him head on, but, at the same time, a comparable force erupted from within him, shielding him from the worst of it. It still felt like a sledgehammer to the head and he slowly lost consciousness in midair, his tails slowing down until his bones reformed back to their original configuration with a pop.

His last thought before hitting the ground was that flying with his two tails was aerodynamically and biologically impossible.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 6**

And so the rest of the kids are out of the way and Tails has discovered he can fly. I have read many stories about how he would learn how to fly to save his life, usually from a lethal fall. I find this incredibly boring and mundane. Instead I did the opposite. I had him fly INTO harm's way to save someone else. Tails might not rush into danger quite as recklessly as Sonic, but he still does an incredible amount of rushing into danger, something that even Sonic X didn't downplay completely.

I also wanted to show once more just how different Chaos adepts are compared to normal people. Writers often depict them as having one or two special abilities while being completely normal in every other way. Speed for Sonic, strength for knuckles and flight for Tails. Never mind the feats of strength everyone, from Shadow to Cream, seem to exhibit. Never mind that while most are slower than Sonic, their speed is still comparable to his. Never mind they casually shrug explosions, bullets, bombs, lasers and generally being smacked around like ragdolls.

As for our favorite fox himself, he might not keep all of his innocence while trying to survive, but he'll still turn into the Tails we know. Though his past won't be anything like most would imagine...


	7. HealHarm

**Chapter 7: Heal/Harm**

**-s-t-h-**

The thin droplets of water that showered his face, brought Miles back to consciousness very fast. He sputtered and coughed a bit, cleaning his lungs from the residue the blast had caused, then wiped the rainwater from his eyes.

Ignoring the soft rain for now, he returned to his feet, checking himself for signs of damage. What he guessed had been blast-induced burns all over his body had almost healed completely, leaving mere tender spots behind. The fur at these points, that should have been burned away, was brand new. The bullet wound at his shoulder was completely gone, leaving only traces of dried blood to tell the tale.

"Regeneration," he muttered, remembering Vertigo's words. "Implausible regeneration," he amended, smiling a bit. His eyes turned towards the direction the blimps had left. He knew there should be no trace of them before looking. Despite the heavy clouds, common during Cocoa Island's rain season he had learned, there were still hints of sunlight high in the sky. He had been unconscious for more than half a day.

"Good speed," he wished aloud. He had done his best to save the other children, but now they were out of his influence. Despite the sadness of separation, he actually felt relieved. Loath as he was to admit it, their very presence had been holding him back.

Deciding to focus on more relevant matters, he brought both of his tails in front of him, studying them intently. "You guys saved the day. How did you do it?" he wondered. He could faintly recall the feeling of flight, but he wasn't sure whether it had been a one-time affair. Deciding to test that theory, he first recovered his precious pouch, sighing at the exquisite feeling mere proximity to the Chaos Emerald provided, then took a deep breath.

His legs tensed and he leaped as high as he could. He tried to spin his tails but he only achieved painfully tangling them up. Landing with an annoyed huff, he rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Focus at their base next," he muttered. He managed to call his innate Chaos powers with some difficulty, then he recalled the unsettling feeling of shifting skin and bones.

The faint popping sound came and he opened his eyes curiously, peering behind him. His tails were spinning around a central axis like before, with unreal speed, but they didn't generate any substantial thrust.

Miles sighed, slowing them down until they became two normal tails again. He discovered the weird propeller configuration could only be maintained above a certain spinning speed.

"Let's think this rationally, Vortex," he contemplated, cradling said tail. "As you are, you can't create enough upwards draft. You are soft, fuzzy and agile. A propeller is supposed to be hard, smooth and inflexible. So, this Chaos thing must change you in that way."

Trying once more, he bent forward, letting his tails above him and spinning them like before. "Hard, smooth, inflexible," he repeated in a mantra-like manner. Seconds later, he found himself flying upwards very fast. It came so sudden, he lost his concentration and plummeted back to the hard ground.

The landing, fatal to anyone not brimming with Chaos powers, merely proved slightly agonizing to him. Wiping his eyes and pretending there were no tears there, he sighed in frustration. "Being able to fly will be the neatest thing ever, but it sure isn't easy," he groused, deciding to just get off the rain for now.

**-s-t-h-**

The mercifully thunderless rain subsided very fast, mainly due to the strong winds that blew the clouds away. Miles wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do now, but he figured trying to locate Vertigo was a good first step. Backtracking to the ruins of the vixen's inn, however, didn't help him at all. The place was completely deserted.

Setting his face to a determined scowl that would have been comical to anyone looking, he once again tried to fly. It proved to be his most successful attempt yet, as he managed to regulate the power and momentarily reach a high vantage point without losing control.

The sight was expected, yet still disheartening. The battlebirds had left no building intact. A growl erupted from Miles' muzzle and he once again felt the same feral rage that had first prompted him to attack. The whole destruction was so pointless and cruel in his mind, he yearned to answer in kind.

His return to the ground was rough, as he miscalculated his tails' speed and slowed them down enough to lose the spin completely, but he was consoled by the fact it was still a landing instead of his previous crash. The diminutive vulpine eyed his twin appendages dubiously. "I'm still not sure whether you guys will be my greatest asset or my untimely demise," he joked, feeling a bit morbid.

During his brief scouting flight, he had caught a glimpse of activity coming from Poloy Forest, that started right where the town ended. What had been a slim wisp of smoke minutes later, was quickly building up to the now familiar evidence of conflagration.

"They are burning the forest," he concluded. "Perhaps Vertigo baited them there?" He mulled over that idea and decided it was certainly plausible. Forest and airport were at the town's opposite ends.

His next priority was to satisfy his hunger, which was achieved by raiding one of the now desolate houses. Since he was about to leave the town and didn't feel like taking time to hunt or forage for food, he also filled a small satchel with some high-energy edibles.

He was soon speeding towards the smoke, eating on the run after deciding there was no sense in spending any more daylight.

He stopped very fast, however, when he reached the first lines of trees. The forest fire was raging deeper in the foliage, but the giant wall of flames was still very visible and very intimidating. Miles gulped as the primal fear of fire, present in everything alive, almost overwhelmed him. He took a deep breath, which he regretted at once, since the smoggy air was hardly pristine. It still helped him gain control of his immature emotional state.

Doing his best to focus on anything else but the looming blaze, he took in the sights around him. Numerous of the giant tree trunks had been hollowed by creative residents, turned into cozy houses. The battlebirds had already eradicated anything sentient, though, and the tiny fox had to pretend there was no smell of decomposition antagonizing the smoke.

The two battlebirds patrolling the area, one in a normal mech, the other riding a floating variation, perished with pathetic ease by his bombs. The prodigious vulpine sighed deeply as he realized he was rapidly ceasing to care about his victims. It was a defense mechanism of his mind, he knew, and it was either becoming desensitized or insane, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

The fox was snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the site of what looked like a serious clash. There were many ruined mechs littering a forest clearing, although someone had been respectful enough to remove the battlebird bodies from inside the metal husks. Miles was more interested in other, subtler clues however.

Caught on a low-hanging branch, he spotted a piece of fabric he identified as part of Vertigo's clothes. Beneath that, he found a pile of Power Rings, hidden inside a collection of ferns, which he retrieved. His mind assembled the scenario easily enough. Vertigo had dodged something and the branch had torn one of her pants' pockets, spilling her rings. The fact she hadn't returned for them meant she was either captured or dead. Miles felt a sharp pain in his chest as his mind finished its conclusions. Abstract theories were one thing, but solid evidence was much worse on his psyche than he had expected.

What he saw next, cemented his fears. On a particularly thick tree trunk, he spotted the imprint of a female body. It would have been comical if he had seen it anywhere else, something straight out of a cartoon. Idly, he fingered the decimated trunk, calculating the force that would have been needed to slam an individual and shatter the tree's bark so deeply. The conclusion was expected. Anyone but a Chaos adept would have died in the collision. Vertigo would have just been knocked silly for a while.

"You promised you'll stay safe," he muttered with a fair amount of childish spite. He knew he was being stupid, though, and he consoled himself by the fact there didn't seem to be any weapon damage around the imprint. The capture theory was all that more possible.

His train of thought was derailed when the sound of heavy machinery reached his ears. Making sure the ever-present fire was still reasonably far, he hid inside a thick bush, ignoring the slight prickling sensation its branches caused and thanking both long fur and Chaos powers for that.

**-s-t-h-**

The vehicle that emerged from the surrounding flora was unlike anything the kit had ever seen. In any other circumstances, he would have felt absolutely giddy at the sight, but the danger involved dulled his reaction down to inquisitive excitement.

The machine towered above the forest floor, about five times taller than the normal battlebird mechs that were already three times his height. Its long, powerful legs were heavily armored and its arsenal was absurd. Four flamethrowers, six cannon muzzles, five machine guns and many razor-sharp spikes compiled a pretty convincing image of what mechanical death would look like.

The Kukku Walker was piloted by two battlebird soldier and Miles hazarded a guess that these two were elites instead of mere grunts.

The fox's first instinct was to flee. Fighting that monstrosity was certainly not high in his to-do list and it would serve no purpose. That plan was dashed, however, when one of the walker's flamers aimed at his direction and spat a tongue of scorching blue flames.

"Superior sensors," muttered the vulpine darkly as he dodged.

"Look, I found me a rat," joked one of the birds.

His companion eyed their tiny adversary and frowned. "It's another blasted fox," he groused. "If he's anything like the other, we have our hands full."

Ears twitching and tails wagging in excitement, Miles was so distracted by that comment he almost didn't dodge the ensuing hail of bullets. One of them hit him squarely on the left arm and being of large caliber, it lodged deep inside, only stopped when it reached his bone. This time, the pain was very acute and only by absorbing a ring did he manage to stay collected enough to avoid the next attack, a very fast micro-missile.

Using another huge tree trunk as cover, the orange-furred mobian panted heavily, grasping his wound. Amazingly, he could still control his arm with some difficulty, but while the ring did manage to dampen the bulk of the pain and stop the bleeding, it couldn't heal him at once. Wiping more tears angrily, the two-tailed fox tried to calm down and form a plan. The Walker seemed to be well-made, with no obvious weaknesses, and the two birds were very competent with their ride.

His thinking time was cut short when his cover erupted into flames. Deciding to try and wing it, he dodged the next attack while lobbing a bomb. He then watched incredulously as the seemingly unwieldy walker folded its legs and leaped away like a grasshopper, dodging his explosive. Jaw hanging open and tails slack, Miles stared as the giant mech reached beyond the treetops at the apex of its jump. Gravity reasserted itself soon, though, and when the machine landed, it caused a shockwave that knocked the fox cleanly off his feet.

The battlebirds gave no quarter and he had to immediately roll away as a combined salvo of missiles and bullets tried to bring his demise. "Their seats have inertial dampers," he muttered, half-annoyed, half-impressed. "That, or every bone in their body is titanium plated."

Reacting as fast as his ring would let him, Miles threw two bombs at once, grinning when one scored a hit. His eyes went wide and his ears folded back, however, when he realized the walker had kicked the second bomb back to its source. Since it was already detonating, the safeguard he had installed, that was never meant for a battlefield, did not work. He did manage to clear the blast radius, although part of his leg fur was slightly singed.

"I really need a plan, guys," he muttered, addressing his tails while hiding behind another tree. It was soon set to fire as well, courtesy of the walker's flamethrowers, but that gave him an idea. Hoping fervently it would work, he started spinning his tails, jerkily taking to the air once more and completely stunning the two batlebirds with his display.

As he passed, he tossed another bomb, this one right on the walker's protective canopy, although he was aiming for confusion rather than damage. Haphazardly turning in midair, he spotted the first tree trunk he had hidden behind, its base still aflame and rapidly weakening. A succession of three bombs compounded that, but the final touch was a score of micro-missiles, frantically fired at him.

The giant tree, an oak, he hazarded, started falling slowly, but Miles knew they could still dodge it easily. At the ends of his endurance and with his tails straining so hard they could give out anytime, he turned once more, flying right towards the walker and hugging the pilots' canopy, attempting to obscure their sight with his own body until the last second.

What he didn't know, however, was the walker's defense system against highjackers. An electric current ran through his body and this time he screamed as every muscle felt as if on fire. He would have passed out then and there, if not for the crimson Emerald at his side. A deluge of light and power was spilled from the mystical gem, covering him with a film of ruby brilliance. It didn't stop the hurt, but it dulled it just enough for the prodigious vulpine to endure it.

The battlebirds, having little visibility and lots of apprehension, proceeded to cause their ride to leap upwards, anxious to dislodge their persistent guest. Gloves ripping away as fingers dugging in the plated material below him, Miles felt as if he was hit by a bullet train, air forcefully fleeing his lungs. The Emerald gave him another slight boost and only then did he recall the falling tree. Using all six appendages, he managed to roll off the still-ascending mech, just before the collision stole his hearing. Too drained to even consider flying, he tucked his body into a ball, tails wrapped tightly around him, and impacted the ground just before the combined mass of walker and giant tree followed. The crash causing a tremor of such magnitude that catapulted him right off the ground once more and into a prickly bush that had somehow remained intact.

"Ouch," he understated, not sure if there was anything left of his body and valiantly fighting back blackness.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 7**

First major battle for this story and I'm expecting some feedback. Was it too long? Too short? Too boring? Too intense? I did my best to initially give Tails difficuties with flying, without disrupting the story too much and I believe I managed that. In the game the Kukku walker was the first boss and not really hard, although you can't tell if you are actally damaging it.

Thank you for reading.


	8. KillWomb

**Chapter 8: Kill/Womb**

**-s-t-h-**

Miles dizzily returned to his feet, after verifying the ground was indeed below him and had stopped its obnoxious spinning. While his body screamed at him to rest, he needed to make sure he had actually won. Discarding the remains of his ring, that had withered away to a dull gray, he reached for his pouch and retrieved another one. "I'm getting addicted to these things," he muttered wearily, turning to regard what had been his opponent.

He needn't had worried. The giant walker had been smashed to a pile of slug and would never work again, unless each of its parts was smelted and recycled. One of the pilots was utterly not in the mood of regaining vital functions ever again, but the other was still breathing and conscious, slowly crawling out of the remains of his perch.

The battlebird noticed him and froze. Many emotions passed from his face, including fear, indignation and denial. Miles found himself hesitating. He knew he should finish the deed and destroy his opponent. The avian mobian was half-way there, anyway, sporting many potentially fatal wounds.

The soldier noticed his hesitation and managed a pained smirk. "Well, why haven't you killed me yet?" he taunted. "Getting cold feet?"

The much younger sapient tried to glare at him. "You will answer my questions," he demanded snarling, hoping his voice was not shaking. It was far simpler when his foes were faceless and armed.

Fear flashed again in the birds eyes, followed by some wet, bloody coughing. While he had extracted himself from the wreckage, he was unable to stand. "Sure," he spat, trying to keep his face blank. No matter how much he loathed it, he knew he was at the kit's mercy.

"Another fox. Female, older than me. I overheard you talking about her. Tell me what happened to her." Miles tried hard to hide his feelings but his worry still seeped into his voice uninvited.

The battlebird grinned. "Oh, I know her, alright," he responded. "Caused a lot of damage. She was almost as tough as you. Commander Kukku the 16th captured her personally after a long duel." His smirk turned uglier at that. "I bet he wanted to have some fun with her. Can't blame him, she's a nice piece."

Typically, the two-tailed kit completely missed the implication, blinking obliviously before sighing in relief. "Alive then. Were is she kept?"

The battlebird eyed him incredulously. He had expected an explosion, verbal or physical. "I'm not sure," he replied truthfully, too stunned to think of a lie. "Our main base is off the island, but he have an outpost on the northeast shore. Or she may be kept close to the Volcanic Tunnel. We've sent scouting robots there because of an energy signature that…" He stopped abruptly when he realized he was saying too much, eyeing Miles critically. "You really are just a kid, aren't you?"

The fox shrugged. "Technically," he replied, trying to push back the fatigue that was still looming at the end of his consciousness.

"Going to save her, then?" asked the bird, trying to keep his tone innocent.

"Sure, after I rest a bit. My house is just a two and a half hours from here," he replied absently, turning to stare south. A second later, he glared at the bird, who was looking very smug indeed. The fox had just given away his house's position. Miles turned away, inwardly cursing himself a blabbermouth. He had intended to let the bird be and changing his mind now, killing him in cold blood, seemed to be beyond him.

Seeing him distracted, the soldier unwittingly solved that problem. His hand reached for his sidearm and he shot a bullet right in the middle of the tiny fox's back. The victim yelped in pain, but the bird was even more surprised as he saw the projectile ricocheting off the furred skin, leaving a small, superficial injury behind. He only had a second to contemplate that, as the vulpine's tails reacted reflexively, slashing at him after making themselves razor sharp.

Miles turned around flabbergasted, only to see his would-be assassin dead as a doorknob, neatly sliced to three. His bloodied twin appendages, twitching nervously, were all the clues he needed. "What? How?" he tried, sighing in exasperation a second later and resisting the urge to vacate his stomach.

He decided he urgently needed some rest and was ready to use the last of his energy to return back home, when his eyes fell on the crashed walker.

From where many components could be salvaged intact.

Components he had no other way to find.

"I really shouldn't," he muttered to himself. "I'm not even sure if I'll manage to carry enough in my state."

He valiantly resisted for two whole seconds before practically leaping at the metal husk, pain and tiredness forgotten.

**-s-t-h-**

For the first time in two days, Miles woke up in his own bed after voluntarily going to sleep. The tiny fox sighed a bit. He couldn't recall any nightmares, but he still felt restless, even after taking a much-needed bath and sleeping for a full ten hours.

He left the bed, intending to retrieve new gloves and socks, when he felt a stinging pain from his arm. Curious, he checked the area, only to find smoothly furred skin. He moved the appendage again and the pain came once more.

"That's where the walker's bullet got me yesterday," he recalled, before the truth hit home. "The bullet is still inside! The wound closed around it," he deduced, his mind conjuring visions of permanent injuries and lead poisoning.

True enough, he could feel a foreign item inside his flesh, trapped there due to his Chaos powers. The fox wished he knew enough curse words to properly express what he thought about the situation. Limited as his medical knowledge was, he knew he had to somehow remove it. Even worse, he didn't have any painkillers that could mute the pain without knocking him out. A Power ring was also out of the question, as its augmenting effect would heal any attempts to reach the bullet.

It took him half an hour, a very sharp knife, a set of pliers, a bucket of tears, half a bottle of disinfectant and some bandages to properly fix the problem. A very subdued Miles cleaned away the mess left behind with revulsion. He could almost feel his muscles and skin already knitting themselves together. "A Chaos adept, huh?" he mumbled, this time dourly. "Makes half of the first aid booklet useless."

Only after spending five hours in his workshop, tinkering with what he had recovered from the walker, did the vulpine cheer up. It was a bit before noon when he was ready to go. He did feel a bit guilty for not going after Vertigo at once, but he knew very well he needed to rest and prepare if he were to have any chance freeing her. Removing the bandage from his arm, he nodded a bit grimly at the faint scar that would soon vanish. He replenished his bomb supply, wore a backpack full of food, water and some tools and gadgets and donned his pouch, containing the red Chaos emerald and about thirty rings.

Miles felt a lot more confident now. "No worries, Vertigo, I'll get you out in no time," he declared optimistically, completely ignoring the fact he only knew of a very general location. From the walker's mostly corrupted memory banks he had managed to retrieve a crude map of the island with some major locations marked on it, which he had printed. The Volcanic Tunnel, however uninventive as far as names go, was his first destination, circled with a red marker.

He was about to start dashing, when another thought struck him. Grinning a bit, he thrashed his tails twice to warm them up, then leaped in the air, spinning them faster and faster. Opening his eyes, he regarded the landscape below him with awe. This was the first time he was flying without a life or death situation at hand and he found he loved every second. The air rushing around him, caressing his fur, the stunning view that even placed his augmented vision to the challenge, and the feeling of freedom, of defying gravity under his own power. Miles was certain he had never felt so good before.

His limit was just a couple minutes, but he found his stamina recovered pretty fast, so he alternated between flying and running. Circumventing around the town of Poloy to avoid the unpleasantness involved, he flew across the Unity River and reached another, unnamed forest in just a few short hours.

It was then he first started having doubts. The supposed entrance to the Volcanic tunnel was somewhere inside the new forest, but he had no idea where. He still entered the dense vegetation with little fear of becoming lost. He could always fly above the trees and find his way back, after all.

The plan, however vague, had been to search for any hint of volcanic activity. There was a large mountain range to the north and he guessed some of them could be volcanoes. Said plan proved to be unneeded, though.

As soon as he was well within the forest, Miles stopped, standing very still, as if trying to hear something. Even his tails stopped moving, freezing in position. It was too strong to be a hunch, yet he couldn't quite identify it. It almost felt like a siren's call.

"I should probably ignore it, Hurricane," he muttered, bringing said tail in his grasp and hugging it for comfort, hardly registering the action. "It could be some sort of trap." His other tail leaped to his grasp as well, as if jealous of the attention. "On the other hand, we have no other clue. We could keep wandering around this forest for days and not even come close to that tunnel."

Half an hour later, he was standing before a gaping cave entrance, slightly smiling. Following the call had proven to be the right choice. Judging from the cave's position and the faint smell of sulfur coming from inside, this place had to be the Volcanic Tunnel.

At first, the cave's interior seemed very uninteresting. Aptly reflecting its name, it consisted of nothing more than a long underground passage. The fox's opinion changed very fast when he reached the tunnel's end.

Miles found himself in a massive underground cavern of black basalt rock, shaped like a mostly even dome. A special variety of phosphorescent lichen seemed to coat its walls, lighting half of it with a low green glow. The other half of the cave was illuminated by a deep red light, coming from a pool of red-hot lava that encircled the cave's lone structure.

The tiny vulpine gazed at said structure with unbridled awe. It was an ancient ziggurat temple, made entirely out of dark green marble and large enough to fill half of the cave. Apart from windows too tiny for even Miles to squeeze in, it only featured a single entrance, a majestic gate shaped like the open muzzle of some unidentified, yet obviously carnivore, animal.

Deciding he had gawked long enough, the preadolescent prodigy focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The heat from the lava moat around the temple was oppressive and by the time he reached the bridge connecting the shore to the temple, he was already soaked with sweat. Gulping and trying hard not to envision what would happen to anyone, Chaos powers or not, that would fall in the lava, he gingerly crossed the bridge, ready to fly at the first sign of instability.

Ancient rock seemed to prove reliable, however, and he reached the other side without incident. Surprisingly, the heat from the molten lava behind him seemed to somewhat subside, as if the temple itself offered a measure of protection. Most people would feel intimidated by the maw gate, yet the tiny fox felt fascination instead. The green marble had been exquisitely carved, each tooth sporting unique decorative etches, each seemingly telling a story.

To his astonishment, the prodigious kit realized he could decipher some of the carvings, although he had no idea what the language was called. "This is getting creepy, guys," he muttered, tails softy rubbing each other. "How can I know all these things? How could I have amassed so much knowledge in the few years of my life I can't remember?"

Staring at the corridor before him, he felt unreasonably annoyed when no answer came to him from its depths, ears folding backwards. Shaking his head, he started walking forward slowly, occasionally stopping to read what seemed like important passages.

"Let's see…In the year 6430 of the order of Ixis, the two warring races… no, tribes. The two warring tribes of flaming fur and quilted heads… vanished?" he recited aloud, squinting at the last word. His knowledge was substantial but hardly complete. "Were annihilated," he decided. "The tribe of the sacred Chaos-marked was washed away by… a demon of water?' A liquid dragon? Not sure…" He paused for a bit, thinking it over, then went on. "…while the tribe of the Machine was banished to the tentacled darkness, leaving behind soldiers of… learning metal? What could that mean?" A tail scratched his head in confusion at that. "Few survivors were left. In the confusion, we… took? Snatched? We 'acquired' the Seven of the power… or perhaps the 'Majestic Seven', hiding them away and shielding them from greed…"

Miles pondered that carefully, remembering what little he had heard from Vertigo. "The Majestic Seven must be the Chaos Emeralds. She told me they were hidden away on this island, so it fits. If that's true, then this temple must be…"

He was caught in mid-sentence when a deafening screech assaulted his ears, followed by a green streak, originating from the shadowed ceiling and heading right towards his face. The sound was so sudden, the fox completely panicked, his legs freezing in place. One arm reflexively covered his eyes, while the other made a feeble attempt to swat whatever was coming.

He was expecting the thud of flesh, but what he heard was anything but.

'PIKO'

Flabbergasted, the vulpine mobian opened his eyes, trying to make sense of the scene. Lying on the ground and completely totaled was a robotic contraption of sorts. Miles hazarded it had been a small bat robot. "One of the battlebird scouts," he concluded aloud.

If he hadn't been so spooked by its sound, he could have easily destroyed it with his bare hands. What was grasped in one of these hands, however, was much more peculiar. The tiny vulpine blinked in confusion. The item was a slim, orange and blue mallet, that looked like a plastic toy one would pick at a fair. He mentally calculated that something like that would never be sturdy or heavy enough to damage the bat scout, however. In fact, he could barely feel any weight from it.

When he let it drop to the ground, though, his jaw almost followed. The hammer made another obnoxious 'piko' sound, just as it shattered a dozen sturdy stone tiles on the floor and the foundation below them.

Just as Miles numbly calculated his hammer would need to be around forty times his own weight to have such an effect, the offending weapon vanished in thin air, letting him to stare at the small crater left behind.

"At least I'm not getting bored," he muttered, still not sure what had just happened.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 8**

I have been aiming for equal parts of drama and humor here and I hope I have balanced them properly. The hammer is an in-game weapon and yes, it does the same sound as Amy's, though it's more compact.

The bullet remaining inside the wound is a constant regeneration problem, along with improperly set bones. I wonder how often Sonic and co would have to deal with it, if the games were a bit more gritty.

One reviewer mentioned the Earth-Mobius thing. I never liked that plot device of Sonic X. For me, it was merely done as a cheap way to introduce Chris Thorndyke and it horribly clashes with many of the games, both old and new. In my stories, Earth and the game Mobius are exactly the same planet and all Sonic X events bend to accommodate that. For this story, it only means there are humans and mobians coexisting in the same societies and that GUN exists and will play an important role. Note that Eggman and Sonic have yet to meet each other.


	9. TrapMachine

**Chapter 9: Trap/Machine**

**-s-t-h-**

Miles had soon decided to set aside the 'mallet incident', as he had decided to call the whole thing, and focus on moving deeper inside the temple. The extensive network of corridors and galleries were lit by torches that somehow kept burning for millennia, from which the vulpine had promptly taken a sample for further study.

He encountered more battlebird bot scouts, mainly bats and rats that had been able to squeeze through the many nooks of the ancient underground structure. Needless to be said, none of them was any challenge for the Chaos-enhanced fox, barring their annoying habit of lunging at him suddenly.

The first time he did start worrying was when he entered a large chamber, which seemed very wrong to his senses, causing his fur to stand on edge. For one, there were neither vents nor decorative carvings to be seen. The green tiles on the floor seemed to be flawlessly placed and the heat, present throughout the temple, was intense for the first time since the lava pool outside.

"A trap?" he wondered loudly, laughing a bit hesitantly. "This certainly is an ancient temple, but that doesn't mean it will be full of deathtraps. Right?"

As if in response, both of his tails wrapped around his waist, their tips wagging in agitation. "Right," he concluded gingerly, taking a step forward.

The first solid indication something was amiss came from behind him, in the form of a deafening thud that caused him to jump cleanly off his feet. Pivoting in the air with a reflexive lash of his tails, he landed, eyeing with disbelief the enormous slab of rock that had completely sealed the doorway he had entered from.

Before he could form a coherent thought, one of the tiles at the room's far corner vanished, falling away and producing a dreadful wet sound from below. The red glow that emerged from the sudden hole failed to console Miles in the least, especially when the rest of the tiles started falling, at an increasingly accelerating rate.

Half-dashing, half-flying, the little fox fled at the top of his speed towards the chamber's far exit as the floor was steadily consumed by the fiery pool of molten lava below. He was forced to take to the air completely for the last ten steps, which also caused him to bash his head on the ceiling after spinning his tails faster than prudent.

The vulpine reached safe ground on all fours, before rising to an exhausted sitting position, his back leaning on the wall behind him. His Chaos powers had partly shielded his head, which meant he had traded a cracked skull with merely a painful bump.

Ears flat, he rubbed the point of contact hesitantly, muttering gruffly. "Mental note. Practice flying in enclosed spaces to avoid braining self." As the pain subsided, a cheeky smile found its way on his face. "Not all that dangerous for flyers," he quipped, addressing the molten pool behind him. Said smile met a horrible demise when he realized the level of said pool was slowly rising.

Frantically, he turned to study the passage ahead, finding his fears were justified. The corridor had a very definite downwards tilt, ideal to accommodate a river of molten metal.

**-s-t-h-**

Ten minutes later, Miles collapsed on the floor of the first safe room he had finally reached, another slab of unforgiving stone coming down to block the lava flow behind him. He had had to run through a gauntlet of a maze, full of rusty metal spikes, flame plumes, collapsing floors and moving walls, all the while staying a step ahead of the lava deluge behind him and enduring the sulphurous air.

"On the other hand," he concluded amidst breathless pants, "Ancient temple cliches are well-known because they usually apply."

There was another gate at the other side of the chamber, a giant stone affair, heavy with carvings. Miles regarded it carefully, his eyes centering at a hole in its middle, almost as large as his head. To his astonishment, there was a very intricate clockwork mechanism visible inside.

"An ancient lock!" he declared, jumping up and down in excitement. The fact he had nothing resembling an appropriate key did not trouble him in the least. He was confident he would be able to pick it open, at least until he tried to place a paw inside.

Yipping in pain, he leaped away from the now glowing gate, cradling his hand. "A mystic ancient lock," he groused, tails lashing in irritation. Removing his glove, he regarded the already healing burns at the very edges of his fingers. He also noticed with interest that the glove itself was untouched. Wanting to test his budding theory more, he tried to insert the glove itself inside the lock, grinning when it remained unharmed.

"It will only hurt living things," he decided, feeling increasingly smug. He had been waiting for a chance to use his newest gadgets. Reaching for his backpack, which had only been slightly singed during his previous trap trek, he removed a complex device, small enough to fit inside the gate lock.

It was a robotic replica of a fox, complete with tiny arms and legs. "Come on T-01," he exclaimed giddily, even though the pocket robot did not possess a shred of intelligence. In fact, he had to use a remote controller, complete with a screen that showed what its sensors could see, to guide it inside the gate hole.

The mechanism proved to be a lot more complex than he had anticipated. Instead of feeling frustration, the prodigious vulpine gladly rose to the challenge, leading his foxbot to manipulate giant cogs and levers inside the lock mechanism.

"Almost there," he declared after a full hour. The tip of his tongue was protruding from the edge of his muzzle in concentration and his fingers had started going numb, yet his face was beaming. He retrieved his little drone, absently caressing its hard shell as if it were alive. "Now I only need a small explosion in there and everything will be neat."

Fatigue, physical and mental, finally asserted itself and he decided to call it a day, even though he had no clue what the real time was. Stretching and yawning mightily, he reached for his robot again and pressed a button hidden under its belly, stepping back at once. The drone shuddered, then started shifting and growing, pieces unfolding and forming a large metal cylinder.

"Scouting bot and mobile shelter," declared Miles, nodding to himself satisfied. Opening a door at the cylinder's side, he lied on the soft mattress he had somehow fitted inside, wrapped his tails around him and entered deep sleep in minutes, completely dismissing the day's misadventures and the fact he was deep underground. Surrounded by his machine, he felt truly at home.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles finished modifying his bomb glove, nodding to himself as he set aside his tools and wore the article, flexing his fingers to become reused to it. Gloves were a staple of the mobian society, after all, and displaying one's claws was considered impolite.

"Let's see how it works," declared the young vulpine, unable to contain his excitement and only barely stopping himself from fidgeting. Steadying himself, he clicked his middle and fourth fingers together twice, carefully regarding the bomb that appeared in his palm. Nothing happened, as expected, and he gently let the explosive orb to slide inside the lock he had spent hours tinkering with.

The bomb got outside the glove's range of influence, but didn't explode. The fox sighed in relief at that. A premature blast could have removed any hope of ever opening that lock. Seconds later, the bomb had arrived to its correct position and he reached for his glove again, pressing a new button he had installed on its wrist guard.

The bomb exploded deep inside the lock and the large gate started sliding away from the passage.

"YES!" Miles cheered himself while laughing in glee and jumping up and down, tails waving so hard behind him, they caused drafts of air to lick the ancient stone walls around him.

By the time the gate opened completely, his exhilaration had settled down to nervous anticipation. He could feel the call in his mind again, stronger than ever. The Chaos Emerald in his pouch seemed to share that sentiment, as it started to glow visibly through the sturdy cloth.

The cylindrical chamber behind the gate was a lot smaller than what Miles had expected, but still large enough to house a tall, pyramid-shaped altar, surrounded by another, miniature, lava moat. Miles thought it looked like a small-scale replica of the temple itself.

His heart almost stopped when he saw what lied at the pinnacle of the altar, though, fitted inside a small indention and glowing bright enough to overwhelm the lava's light.

"Another Chaos Emerald," stated the vulpine in wonder, walking forward as if in a trance. He didn't even consider the danger of the lava, flying over the moat, eyes on the prize. The new mystic gem that was colored a true emerald green, started pulsating with power faster and faster the closer he got. Its crimson brethren mirrored the action and Miles had to use every ounce of willpower to keep his mind intact. The presence of two active Emeralds at such proximity was making him feel utterly addled.

His hand moved almost by its own, reaching for his pouch and retrieving the scarlet jewel. By now, both gems were wreaked by cracking bolts of pure power and as soon as the red and green Emeralds came close enough to almost touch, the fox's world became one of pure light. Yelping, he stepped back as a pillar of energy shot upwards, the result of the two estranged gems coming together after millennia of separation and trying to relearn to coexist in the same vicinity.

It was over so suddenly, Miles thought for a moment he had passed out. When he dared to open his eyes, though, he realized it had only lasted for a few seconds. The two gems were currently next to each other, both glowing calmly, as if they were sleeping.

Gingerly, he touched each of the emeralds with one hand, sighing in pure joy as a tiny part of their energy seeped in his body. "It feels only a bit stronger than a ring, yet I somehow know this is only a pittance compared to their real power," he pondered loudly. "Perhaps I need to learn how to use them first."

Hardly thinking, he plucked both gems off the altar, removing his newest one from its perch. Only after that action did he remember the fondness for traps the architects of the temple seemed to have had. Loud grinding sounds reached his ears indicating heavy machinery was being activated. Standing very still, seemingly frozen in place, he employed each of his senses, expecting a new calamity to fall upon him.

He was still standing rigid at that spot five minutes later, when his stomach decided to rebel, growling like an abandoned puppy. Miles crashed to the floor at that, giggling to himself at the absurdity of it all.

Only then did the trap activate, in the form of a giant spring that lifted the whole altar and catapulted him through a newly opened vent.

As Miles spun his tails above the temple, quite a bit disorientated, he thought the temple's builders had apparently had a very twisted sense of humor.

**-s-t-h-**

"So, this is the Volcanic Tunnel. What are we supposed to do here again?"

An eyeroll accompanied the following answer. "We are supposed to check for any scout drones that might have returned. The electromagnetic interference on this island makes all long range communication useless."

The first speaker scratched his feathered head. "Sure, whatever you say. I only care that we can't call for help from central if we need to."

The second speaker raised a brow, stopping his mech vehicle and turning to face his comrade. "As it is, this rock that passes for an island is empty. Why in the world would we need help?"

The other sighed. "There have been some casualties these last days. More and more of our people turn up dead."

"That was because of the mad fox that commander Kukku captured," he replied. "That vixen was one mean Chaos adept."

His partner shook his head. "There is more. Some of the deaths happened after chief Speedy caught her. She can't be killing us while she's locked on top of Polly Mountain in our primary outpost, now, can she?"

His more intelligent friend scratched his beak. "Another adept, then. Only a Touched One would be able to defeat our mechs barehanded."

The other soldier gulped at that. "I have heard some rumors among the ranks," he supplied. "Some idiots say this is divine punishment, but others talk about a monster that we woke up when we explored that ancient mountain temple on the north coast. You do remember how only a quarter returned alive, even though chief Speedy was with them."

The other laughed at that, trying to conceal a fair amount of nervousness. "If there was a guardian beast there, commander Speedy would have slain it, otherwise he wouldn't have returned alive either."

"Perhaps," replied the first battlebird, not really convinced. "Unless it's something you can't really kill for good…"

His companion let a long-suffering sigh. "Look, if it makes you feel any braver, we'll turn on our life-detectors. I'm sure nothing will show up, apart from the critters. Maybe then you'll…"

He never finished that sentence, as a pair of bombs did away with both of them. Miles, who had been spying on them the whole time, turned northwards grimly, eyeing the huge mass of rocks and vegetation that was Mt. Polly.

"I might have found another Emerald, but not Vertigo. At least I know where she is now," he muttered. His hand reflexively touched the pouch at his side, seeking the mystical gems' reassuring presence. He had a hunch he would be needing them a lot in the following days.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 9**


	10. CitadelDuel

**Chapter 10: Citadel/Duel**

**-s-t-h-**

The three grenadier battlebirds eyed each other with apprehension. Unlike the mech drivers, they lacked heavy layers of protective armor shielding them from the world. Instead they possessed speed, innate or artificially imbued, and copious amounts of explosives. Their job was to guard one of the many passages inside Polly Mountain and until five days ago, they believed it had been the easiest assignment ever.

Five days ago, one of the other patrols had reported enemy contact, shortly before vanishing. Since then, more than fifty such patrols had met similar fates. Worst of all, they had no practical way to counter such a threat. The radio interference saturating the air waves only allowed short range communications, which meant that contacting their main base could take several minutes, as the message had to be passed from team to team many times. Even then, leading a large strike team through the narrow, crisscrossing tunnels and crags was as futile as emptying the sea with a leaky spoon. Any aggressors would have ample opportunity to hide, evade them or set an ambush.

Therefore, the same reasons that made their main outpost resistant to a large scale military attack, also made it vulnerable to a single aggressor armed with determination, Chaos powers and guerrilla tactics.

Not that most battlebird grunts believed their attacker to be a mere mortal, not any more…

"It's finally here," squeaked one of the birds, a wingless parrot, his hands trembling so much they almost dropped the currently mute communicator he had been holding. "Squad 55 was lost. We are alone!"

The other two, a male and a female sparrow, made a show out of rolling their eyes. "Big deal," responded the female. "No way is anything going to pass by us."

The third soldier nodded, making a show out of brushing his feathers. "We are guarding a long narrow tunnel and, between the three of us, we have enough explosives to bring down half the mountain."

The parrot was hardly consoled. "It's not enough! Do you think the monster picking us one by one can be stopped with a few grenades? It won't even feel them on its hide."

The male sparrow sighed. "Oh please. We don't even know what that 'monster' of yours is. I say it's just a GUN commando with a chip on his shoulder. Good enough, sure, but hardly grenade-proof," he replied, prompting the female battlebird to giggle.

The terrified troop shook his head frantically. "We do have descriptions of it," he corrected them. "They say it casts a shadow twenty meters long! Its eyes burn with sapphire flames! It moves faster than a bullet! Its four tails are six meters long each! It has claws and fangs the size of daggers!"

The female sparrow bobbed him on his helmet to stop his babbling. "That's superstitions, not descriptions," she snapped, getting very annoyed. Much as she wanted to disregard such rumors, hearing them again and again had succeeded in making her uneasy. "Casts a shadow twenty meters long, my sumptuous feathered ass. An egg can cast such a shadow if the light is right!"

The ensuing laugher, uneasy from the parrot, hearty from the other sparrow, was cut very short when their portable life detector beeped, indicating something alive was close. Their reaction was spasmodic rather than reflexive. Each lobbed a trio of grenades, followed by long bullet bursts from their rifles, never mind seeing a target.

The rock tunnel surprisingly endured the onslaught instead of collapsing on them and the sole reason they stopped firing was the need to reload.

"Did we get it?" asked one of the sparrows, embarrassed he had completely lost his cool. The passage ahead was filled with smoke, of course, but apart from the occasional sound of falling pebbles, everything was silent.

Until a deceptively harmless item rolled towards them slowly. They tensed at first, but then blinked in confusion as the black sphere stopped by them lazily.

"What could that…?"

Miles' remote bomb exploded, forever muting the speaker.

The small fox emerged from the tunnel, snorting dust out of his nostrils and glaring at the trio's remains. He didn't stop to think about it, but his demeanor had changed many times during the last days. He would often go from feeling horrible about his actions, to feeling satisfied, to not caring at all, to feeling horrible once more. Battle after battle had started taking its toll, on his mind rather than on his Chaos-powered body.

Currently, he was feeling angry. "These… these idiots have to get in my way," he groused, annoyed that he didn't know of any real insults. "I wouldn't be killing them if they had stayed in their nests."

Shaking his head in resignation, he reached a fork, where the tunnel split into four, and picked a way at random. That was another problem. Polly Mountain had proven to be a natural labyrinth of rock, plants and soil and he only had a faint idea of where he was supposed to go to reach the top. Flying there was out of the question, both because of the strong air drafts and because, according to the Kukku walker's data, the outpost on Mt. Polly sported formidable anti-air defenses.

"I need to find her, Vortex," he muttered to said tail. "Vertigo has been a prisoner for over seven days. She might be able to take care of herself, but I'm getting worried…"

He smelled and heard another battlebird team close by and sighed. Despite how callous it sounded to him, the whole situation was getting tedious.

**-s-t-h-**

"Another squad is down, sir," announced one of the operators, his squeaky vice laced with fear. Commander Kukku the 16th also known as Speedy, supposed it was a natural reaction. If his father had been there instead, the operator's chances of survival would barely rival a snowball cast in hell. Imperial Battle Kukku the 15th hated bad news with a passion and had never quite mastered the concept of refraining from shooting the messenger.

Speedy frowned at the screen the operator was sitting before. The three-dimensional map of Mt. Polly was littered with red dots, each of them signifying a lost patrol. Worst of all, there didn't seem to be rhythm or reason to the path the intruder was taking, except for a tendency of heading upwards.

"Our enemy is either very cunning or very lost," he muttered, caressing a small metal container hanging by his belt. His father was worried about fame, power and treasure and he supposed all three were nice, but Speedy was in for the challenge. The unknown intruder, lost or not, was good. The battlebird was certain said intruder was a Chaos adept, just like Ren, or rather Vertigo, as she called herself these days..

Speedy sighed forlornly as his mind drifted to the vixen. He was fond of her, perhaps too fond, and their duel amidst the forest had been the highlight of his year. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with him, but perhaps with time…

Shaking his head and pushing such thoughts at the back of his consciousness, he eyed the map again, concocting a plan. He knew he would have to deal with the enemy personally and he had the leisure to pick his own arena.

"I want demolition squads here and here," he ordered, indicating two locations on the map. "They are to wait for me to pass, then bring down these tunnels. Seal them completely. Make sure they use triple the explosives. Some rocks are so saturated with Chaos energy, they are hard as diamonds."

The operator eyed him hesitantly, taking some time to gather the courage to speak. "But sir, that way you and every unit beneath that point will be cut off. The only way up will be through…"

"Through the Grand Gorge," confirmed Speedy gleefully. "Our troops will just have to bare the inconvenience of being isolated for a while. They carry rations for that very reason after all."

"But why there, sir?" inquired the operator, not without a tone of dread. Speedy felt it was appropriate. The Grand Gorge, as the soldiers called it, was a deep natural shaft, starting from the heart of the mountain and extending all the way to the top, right next to the battlebird outpost. A combination of jagged rocks, loose boulders and powerful air drafts made it a deathtrap for climbers and flyers alike.

"Why not?" responded Speedy nonchalantly. "It's a nice place for a duel," he went on simply, causing the feathers of every listener to shudder.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles yelped as yet another burst of wind threatened to steal him off the ground. Grasping the largest boulder he could get his paws on, he had to wait for a few seconds before the air subsided. Sighing in relief, he resumed walking on the narrow ledge.

"I thought getting out of the caverns even for a while would be neat, Hurricane, but I never imagined there would be such turbulence up here." His tail failed to respond, yet he was hardly deterred. "If we try to fly here, these winds will splatter us all over the rocks. At least no battlebirds are crazy enough to attack us here." His face darkened a bit. "Although that collapsed tunnel was intentional. Perhaps we are being herded…", he concluded, absently playing with the tip of his other tail.

Another wind burst came suddenly and he was caught off guard, with no more boulders to grab on. Thinking fast, he started spinning his tails in reverse, forcing his body close to the ground, with the rest of his limbs digging in the hard soil.

Time almost crawled to a halt for him as he seemed to be buffeted from all directions, then the winds calmed down just enough for him to clear the last section of the outdoors path and scurry inside the mountain via another cave.

"That… was… close," he panted, tilting his head and emptying his large ears from the inevitable amount of accumulated dust. Five minutes later, he had also managed to even his lush fur, in order to avoid looking like a stick of cotton candy caught in a storm.

The new tunnel proved to be a long one and when he reached the end, he wasn't quite outdoors again.

"How interesting," he marveled. He seemed to be at the bottom of a very deep pit. The sky was barely visible, almost lost amidst hundreds of rock spires and narrow ledges. Even at its lower point, he could feel strong drafts wrecking the ravine's length.

"Indeed, very interesting," came the unexpected answer and he reflexively lobbed a bomb at its direction. The voice's owner dodged the blast equally fast, however.

The young vulpine's eyes went wide when the speaker appeared. "You!" he breathed, a bit uneasily. That was the same person that had reportedly defeated Vertigo, after all.

Speedy floated into full view, regarding the kit inquisitively. "I expected a commando or some mystical horror, not the same kid I saw in Ren's inn…" His voice was not disappointed but rather intrigued. "It seems your two tails are your least important feature, after all."

Miles assumed the most sever glare he could muster. "I'm here for Vertigo," he stated succinctly.

Speedy raised a brow. "Vertigo? You mean Ren! I see. You fancy yourself a fox in shinning armor then."

The fox frowned, not familiar with the reference. "Very few armor materials would offer me worthwhile protection without slowing me down with their bulk. Carbon fibers with adamantium infusion perhaps. And I'd take camouflage armor instead of shinning any day," he replied, nodding to himself.

The battlebird blinked, then grinned. "Impossibly smart and knowledgeable, yet quite ignorant in everyday stuff. "

Miles crossed his arms defensively. "Well, I'm only about four, after all," he revealed.

Speedy blinked in disbelief. "Out of the diapers and into the battlefield," he joked, wearily watching for another attack. The fox was tensed and in full alert, after all. "Vertigo gave you some awesome weapons. I didn't know she was so good at inventing."

The tiny vulpine frowned at that. "I'll have you know that I've made everything myself. It's not like I have any family that I know of. The only thing Vertigo gave me was a Chaos Emerald," he replied before wincing.

The battlebird's face lit up with glee at that. "Not so good at keeping secrets, are you?" he taunted.

The younger Chaos adept had had enough. "No matter. Either fight me or get out of my way," he spat, producing another bomb while glaring at the other.

Speedy sighed. "It doesn't have to be that way. Even though you are a fox, there is a place for your many talents with us. You said you are alone, after all. I'll even let Vertigo go," he added, although not very eagerly.

Miles raised a brow. "Even though she's such a good piece you can have fun with?" asked the fox naively, prompting the other to gape at him. "What? That's what one of your soldiers said. I think he was being polite."

"That little bastard!" snapped the older bird, blushing. "I would never…" Shaking his head and regaining his composure, he sighed again. "Yes, kid, even though she's such a good piece, as you put it."

The vulpine seriously considered the offer. The battlebirds had killed many people at Poloy and he had killed many of them in return. While he didn't really have a way to count bodies, it had been fair exchange in his mind. Also, Vertigo would not be in danger any more. On the other hand, he didn't really want to assist the battlebirds in any way and wasn't about to give away the two emeralds in his possession. In addition, a part of him could sense the Chaos energies inside the older bird's body and craved the challenge of fighting him, although Miles didn't really understand that particular urge.

"No," he decided at length. "I would otherwise accept, but Vertigo warned me against you. She also didn't want any of the Emeralds in your hands, not after what you did in Poloy."

Speedy nodded slowly, rising in the air. The fox noted he was using some kind of propulsion system embedded in his body, since evolution had deprived his breed of true wings. As it was, only few of the battlebirds had retained their ability to fly. "I understand, although I'm not sure how you could hope to defeat me," he responded. "Vertigo is at the top of this gorge and I have the advantage of flight," he added, ready to demonstrate that by preparing an aerial lunge.

Miles smiled mischievously. "You'd be surprised." When Speedy came at him, he was ready, leaping as high as his legs would take him, then spinning his tails to add to his altitude. As the very dumbfounded bird passed below him, he lobbed one of his bombs, scoring a glancing hit. While Speedy possessed the reflexes to dodge the worst of it, the blast had singed its fair amount of feathers.

Recovering his previous height and turning around, the battlebird regarded the still flying fox with eyes more akin to dinner plates. "How… how do you? Your tails are mechanical then," he deduced.

The vulpine shook his head. "Nuh-huh. While I love machines, I don't have any implants on me. That's all Chaos power."

A very smirking Speedy tried another lunge, this time taking into account his foe's new ability. "So special!" he shouted, metal claws taking a swipe at the fox as he passed him by. Miles tried to dodge again, but he didn't have enough time and the battlebird compensated for his movement. Instead, he waited until the last moment before kicking at Speedy's extended claws, mindful to avoid their sharp points. His spinning tails had instinctively sped up, given him abundant leverage to fling his opponent right on one of the ravine's walls.

Not losing a second, Miles started ascending as fast as he could, determined to reach the gorge's top before Speedy could recover. It was not to be, though. Not even a minute later, Speedy teasingly passed him by, flying like a jet to Miles' helicopter.

"You didn't think I was down already, did you?" taunted the bird, casually folding his arms behind his head and inclining a bit, as if he was sitting on a comfy beach chair instead of plain air.

Miles' intended response would have been a bomb, if not for a sudden draft of air catching them both unaware. Speedy lost his smugness at once, yelping as the currents pushed him upwards and trying his best to avoid the many jagged protrusions above him. Miles also yipped in astonishment, although his flight technique allowed for better maneuverability. They were still unable to dodge some of the hazards and when the drafts subsided, they half-winced half-laughed at themselves. The many bruises on their bodies, that would have been broken bones were it not for their Chaos powers, were more severe than the harm they had managed to inflict on each other.

"When you picked the battlefield, did you expect this to happen?" asked Miles inquisitively, landing on a wide ledge and rubbing some of his most painful bumps.

Speedy landed close by, glaring at him. "Alright, I underestimated the place. I didn't think I'd have to do any serious flying," he groused.

The fox smiled a bit, producing another bomb and spinning it in his grasp teasingly. The battlebird also smiled wickedly, just before taking a deep breath and rushing at his foe. The bomb was thrown and sidestepped. A metallic hand sped forward, claws extended. A hardened tail intercepted it, knocking it to the side. A second tail rushed under the first, sharpened to a fine edge, scoring a glancing hit and drawing blood.

Speedy flew away, putting some distance between himself and his much younger opponent. He eyed the shallow cut, just below his ribcage, then one of Miles' tails, whose tip had been stained red. If his skin hadn't been reinforced by both Chaos and technology, his innards would have been decorating the ground below him.

"Flyer, bomber and shredder. You're a cute kid, fox," he remarked amused. "At least you seem to be enjoying this as much as I do."

The vulpine blinked in confusion. "I'm not enjoying this," he claimed honestly. "I'd rather not hurt anyone."

That answer prompted gales of laughter. "Sure you do. That's why you were smiling before. That's why your tails are wagging excitedly behind you even now. I know you can feel it, kid."

Miles gulped a bit, suddenly unnerved. The bird's observations were true, after all, even though he hadn't consciously noticed before.

Speedy was quick to enlighten him. "It's your powers kid. Chaos adepts are hardly mere batteries. The power has sentience. The power wants to be used. The power is glad to be used. And in turn we embrace the challenge. Defying danger and death is what makes us feel alive. Many adepts try to ignore it and some might even go insane by denying it. As for myself, I choose to embrace it. What will you do?"

The fox prodigy closed his eyes for a while, not caring about being attacked. When he opened them again, his glare was determined. "I will do what I have to," he replied plainly, retrieving a power ring from his pouch and letting its energy sing inside his veins.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 10**

And so I have resumed this story with the first half of a boss battle and ended it with a cliffhanger. It came a bit late, I know, but that's erratic update times for you. No worries, the next chapter is ready and only needs some polishing.

Some will probably be astonished by the sheer amount of death in this story, even if it's just grunts for now, but I'm keeping true to the game, at least in that aspect. Tails is lobbing high grade explosives at them, strong enough to break rock and demolish armor. The battlebirds' bodies fall off the screen charred and stupefied. The game of course is quite cartoony about it all, but they still die.

As for Tails himself, he is just following what he thinks is right. His naivety makes for some rather callous behavior. While all beings have a natural aversion to killing their own species (or at least similar as in sentient), conditioning (such as having many armed people trying to kill you) compensates for that. Being a Chaos adept means he won't fall apart easily(physically or mentally), but he'll still have to deal with all this later. I plan to use that to make him a bit more like the Tails from the newer games.

In other news, I have tried to give Speedy some semblance of personality instead of making him some sort of chaotic evil villain. I hope it's working. The chaotic evil monster will be his father instead. I'll also add some background about how Speedy and Vertigo know each other, although it's hard with Tails as the main character.

If you have time, leave a review and tell me what you think.


	11. PyrrhicConclusion

**Chapter 11: Pyrrhic/Conclusion  
**

**-s-t-h-**

The two glowing figures slammed in each other fiercely. Tiny gloved fist was dodged. Wicked clawed hand was kicked away. A clawed foot scored a hit, creating a wound that would heal minutes later. A Chaos-imbued tail stabbed forward like a scorpion's sting and almost claimed an eye. In the end, one fist found a beak and another one a snout.

Speedy and Miles were forced backwards, crashing at opposite stony walls and taking a while to recover. Both of them had used the boost of a ring in an attempt to overwhelm the other, although in the end they had proven to be almost equal. Even though Speedy possessed a lot more experience, the fox made up for it by being able to channel almost double the Chaos energy.

"I don't think so," muttered Speedy, extracting himself from his vertical crater. Miles had apparently recovered earlier and instead of attacking, he had resumed flying upwards, very intent on finding and rescuing his vixen friend.

The green and chrome battlebird rushed upwards, his implants working at full power and another Chaos Ring grasped in his hand. Miles felt him coming and moved aside in the nick of time, as the older adept blasted by, intending to ram him to oblivion. Speedy hardly relented, performing a flawless U-turn, this time rushing downwards. The fox dodged again, but not without suffering another minor slash wound. In retaliation he spun his tails harder to gain some upwards momentum, then produced a rapid succession of five bombs, catapulting them towards Speedy with his tails. The projectiles flew much faster than before and the battlebird yelped, evading the first four but unable to avoid the last. The ensuing explosion was partly absorbed by his own metal hands, which he had crossed defensively, although it cost him in both power and speed.

Instead of capitalizing on his foe's temporary disadvantage, Miles resumed his tails' spinning, riding another, milder, upwards draft to build up velocity. Speedy once again passed him by, but instead of attacking directly, he attempted to flatten him by destabilizing the surrounding geography. Veering left and right, the vulpine flier frantically dodged a grand variety of stalactites, boulders and rocks that could have crashed his bones to dust, regardless of Chaos powers. Instead, many of them clipped him painfully, not enough to break his flight, although he did gain a brand new collection of bruises to add on his body. He soon spotted a particularly large stone he knew he didn't have the time to avoid, however. Panicking, he did the first thing that came to his mind, angling his tails so that their spinning ends would intercept it.

Speedy watched in disbelief as the large rock was split in twain and the fox passed through, unnerved yet unharmed. Landing on another ledge, Miles blinked dumbly, glancing back at his tails as if expecting to see a mangled mess of rent flesh and broken bone. Instead, his twin favorite body parts were in pristine condition, glowing softly with Chaos residue.

"You seem surprised," understated Speedy, landing nearby but making no move to attack.

Despite being in the middle of mortal combat, Miles laughed embarrassed, crossing his arms and scratching the back of his head with one of his tails. "I'm new to this, really," he admitted.

The battlebird commander eyed him carefully, trying to decipher whether his opponent was really that naïve or whether it was all an elaborate façade. Part of him was hesitant to fight someone like that, but his own blood also boiled at the thought of Miles' power. Such raw potential was unheard of.

The duel was resumed and this time the tiny vulpine dashed at him first, at speeds much more intense than what his preadolescent frame should support. He refrained from flying, using his tails like the lethal weapons they were, first lashing them forth like whips, then momentarily solidifying them into unyielding and particularly sharp blades before retreating them again. The rest of his appendages hardly stayed inert and despite being an amateur and lacking in both form and experience, he compensated with unbridled fervor and raw power.

Two more rings were drained by their respective owners and the two adepts clashed on the ground. Speedy caught one of Miles' fists with only a low grunt as reaction, then tried to land a knee strike on the much shorter mobian's face. The fox leaned backwards, supporting his weight with only his tails and kicking with both feet at the bird's shin. As the other stumbled away, the vulpine briefly spun his tails, using the boost to swiftly leap above the other and attack from behind. In response, Speedy pivoted, adding his body's momentum to a lightning-fast backhand that sent the vulpine to crash on a nearby boulder.

To Miles' credit, the battlebird was winded enough to forego another immediate attack, content to take a breather while his opponent dug himself out of his newest indention. "This is getting us nowhere, you know," he noted when his lungs stopped complaining. "At this rate and with our ring stock, this could keep up for days."

The fox sighed, removing the many newly-created pebbles from his person. "I don't see another way, unless… Oh, look! A distraction!" He exclaimed suddenly, pointing behind the older adept.

Speedy turned around, milliseconds before realization sank in. Head snapping to its original direction, he glared at where Miles had been just a moment ago, only to see an incoming bomb.

"I can't believe he fell for that", muttered the foxy mobian amused, as the bomb detonated below him. He had no illusions about winning that easily, even with such a direct hit, so he had resumed flying as soon as the explosive had left his hand.

This time however, he decided to take a leaf out of his foe's battle guide, using his bombs to attack his surroundings. A visibly injured Speedy emerged from his blast cloud with a determined visage, only to squeak in disbelief as a boulder the size of a truck almost took his head off. Growling in irritation, he followed behind the tiny vulpine, who seemed determined to collapse half a mountain in his wake.

Their roles reversed, the battlebird slowly but surely approached, proving that even his cautious flying speed was greater than Miles' top. Said fox soon noticed as much, raking his mind for another plan. He calculated he was two-thirds up the gorge, although the peak seemed higher than ever to his subjective perceptions. "Throwing boulders at him is no good", he mumbled, watching anxiously as the other adept maneuvered around the larger pieces, while simply tore the smaller ones apart with his claws. "Gravity is not nearly fast enough to get him, not with such a short distance between us. Need something faster, but I can't exactly haul heavy rocks at him with my arms…"

Then an idea came and he smirked, although a bit gingerly. Closing his eyes he concentrated, noting idly that it cost him some of his speed. When he opened them again, he smiled wider, regarding the newly materialized hammer in his hand. Grinning a bit maliciously, he eyed a rather puzzled Speedy, before taking a deep breath and hurling his hammer with all his might.

The surprised battlebird only dodged by sheer luck, since the mallet had been flying very fast, while it didn't seem too dangerous. Eying Miles that had materialized a second hammer, he raised a brow. "You do realize you look ridiculous making these things, don't you?"

As if on cue, the booming sound of crushing boulders came from below them, the flying weapon having reached and annihilated some solid surface. While Speedy did his best not to freak out, the vulpine laughed sheepishly, his cheeks red in embarrassment. "I know they look stupid, but they work pretty neatly", he exclaimed. Before Speedy could escape his bewilderment, Miles narrowed his eyes and started flinging hammer after hammer, using his remaining power to gain some altitude.

The battlebird commander did a great job dodging the deceptively shaped projectiles for a while, smirking even as beads of sweat trickled down his face. Materializing hammers at such speeds seemed to take a tremendous toll on the kit's power, slowing him down to almost a standstill. Unfortunately for the avian, his luck chose that moment to forsake him. It was a slight miscalculation and the whirling hammer merely clipped him, painfully yet hardly severely. The net result, however, was being thrown in the trajectory of a second mallet, with no chance to dodge.

Speedy gasped, shielding himself with his hands and trying to intercept and hopefully parry the hammer. He might as well have tried to lift the Cosmos while Atlas took a coffee break. Implants and Chaos powers working at an overdrive, he managed to catch it and even slow down a bit, but, in the end, he was still sent crashing at the ravine's wall, his figure lost amidst a rain of stone shards and dust clouds. A rapid succession of five bombs followed, further extending the lethality of it all.

Thirty seconds later, Miles reached the top of the ravine, collapsing on the ground while hyperventilating. His lungs burned so much that even a wisp of air induced agony and his heart beat so fast he was irrationally afraid it might pop out of his ribcage any moment and declare a strike. It took him a while to recover, turning and regarding the abyss behind him pensively, while cradling both of his very weary tails.

"I actually got him," he marveled not sure whether to laugh or cry.

"You actually did, Mr. Thor wannabe," came a rather unexpected response, accented by a metal hand grabbing at the edge of the ravine and pulling its owner up. The fox's eyes goggled at the image. Speedy stood before him once more, alive but barely so. His stance was crooked, favoring a strained spine and one of his legs barely supported him. Most of his green feathers were burned away, leaving behind blackened skin. Numerous cuts littered the rest of his body, soaking him with blood and exposing cables and implants.

"The only reason I survived was because of this beauty," he added, his voice raspy. One of his eyes was shut, perhaps permanently so, while the other was focused on the item grasped in his mostly intact hand.

Miles' jaw went slack as he regarded the third Chaos Emerald, its color a rich royal purple. Released from its confinement at the battlbirds' shielded belt container, it glowed brilliantly. Speedy took another step forward and all hell broke loose. The insistent glow turned to harsh radiance as bolts of power started raking the mystic gem. Miles' two Emeralds mimicked the activity, forcing the vulpine to discard his pouch or risk untimely disintegration. Similarly, the purple Emerald left Speedy's grasp, falling close to its brethren after ages of separation. The ensuing synchronization reaction produced a pillar of power visible from high orbit, which left both combatants' minds blank for nearly a full minute.

Speedy, more used to chaos power exposure, recovered first and tried to reach the now subdued gems. His body failed him, however, and he had to stop in mid-crawl or risk blacking out. Miles returned to reality soon afterwards and found himself in marginally better status. He did reach the Emeralds, but when he touched them, his body failed to draw any power. His frantic reaching for a power ring produced similar results. He could feel, almost taste the power, but his body was simply unable to reach it.

The battlebird cackled at the fox's stupefied visage, although it came out more like a pained snort. "Congrats, kid. You're suffering from Chaos burnout. Won't be able to draw any power for a day or so", he explained, savoring the look on his foe's face. Abandoning any façade of attempting to move, he slumped down on the ground. "What's your name, kid?" he rasped after a while, barely keeping his eyes open. "Can't keep calling you 'kid' after such a duel."

Miles, hopelessly powerless, decided to answer. "'Miles Prower'. And your name is Kukku the something or another."

The green hawk rolled his eyes at that. "The 16th. Just call me Speedy. You'd better settle down, Miles. You might have beaten me, but all three Emeralds go to the battlebirds. My men will soon come to investigate, you see. Our outpost is very close."

Speedy's not quite taunt only served to make Miles more determined. Dazed confusion gave way to an idea. He staffed all three Chaos Emeralds into his shielded pouch, fastened the drawstrings, then started crawling towards the mountain's edge, opposite from the Grand Gorge.

The fallen battlebird lost any remaining shred of mirth, sighing at the spectacle. "Even if you reach the edge, you'll only succeed in falling to your death", he quipped. By now he was fighting unconsciousness with the figurative beak and claw.

Miles reached the edge and was greeted by a paragon of a bedazzling view. All of Poloy Island was sprawled before him, illuminated by the waning sun and made golden by its rays. Far beneath him, after a sheer drop, the font of Unity River was visible, a gaping maw carved on the mountainside, spewing torrents of water.

The fox felt himself fading fast, but managed a smile. "Vertigo told me not to let them have them", he muttered, collecting the last vestiges of his power and tossing the pouch, fainting a second later.

Speedy, having seen the whole spectacle, let out a vicious curse, before also succumbing to the lure of blissful blackness.

**-s-t-h-**

The battlebird squad, numbering six members, reached the area above the Grand Gorge tentatively, fully expecting an ambush, natural calamity or comparable disaster. As soon as they spotted their commander, though, they threw caution to the wind and rushed to him.

"Commander Speedy!" exclaimed one of the more eager troops, an orange-feathered eagle, kneeling and checking the battlebird's vitals. "Who could have done this to you?"

Speedy heard the question even while unconscious. "Mil..s Pro...r", he muttered, too low to be heard correctly.

"What did he say?" demanded one of the others, unnerved by the eagle's pale face.

"He said 'Mael-sprawler'", he squeaked. "There is some monster way beyond us here. Let's hurry before it returns!"

Amidst the nervous whispers of 'Mael-sprawler', one of the soldiers noticed Miles' tiny form, prone close the cliff edge. "Hey, it's a kid fox! I thought we killed everyone one this piece of rock."

The eagle nodded. "Since it's still alive, it can only mean commander Speedy protected it from the Mael-sprawler. Keep it alive for now. Just grab it and toss it in a cell, or something."

With the setting sun on their backs, the battlebirds returned to their base, carrying their commander and a very innocent looking, very lethal fox.

**-s-t-h-**

**End of chapter 11**

Last chapter got good reviews. Keep it up!

Battle scenes are difficult to write and especially to make interesting, as in non-repetitive. I hope you enjoyed it. The "Chaos burnout" thing came to me as a solution to effectively end the fight. The sync reaction every time two or more Emeralds meet is of course from Sonic X. Never mind they forgot about it later in the show…

I find it very amusing that in Archie's Sonic Universe, they had another rendition of this same story recently. I personally think the current writer and sketcher are very talented. It's also very ironic that Tails' sub, the Sea Fox, was initially taken from this game years ago.

Yes, Tails was captured, although his captors are deliciously unaware of who and what he is, since Speedy will be incapacitated for some time. It took some thought to find a good enough moniker, but Mael-Sprawler was the only one I could think. This will become a gag, naturally. The battlebirds finally have a name for their boogieman.

Till next time, people!


	12. AllyAbscond

**Chapter 12: Ally/Abscond**

**-s-t-h-**

The first thought in Miles' mind was that his bed was five-point-three times harder than it should have been. However improbable, it neatly explained why he felt sore all over. Yawning and stretching, he slowly opened his eyes, freezing immediately at the spectacle. Harsh, intense eyes were staring at him from beyond a steel mask. Leaping to his feet, adrenaline screaming in his veins, the tiny fox took a step back, pressing against thick metal bars.

"Who are you?" he demanded, tails ready to strike. The figure tried to answer, but it came out horribly muffled. Slowly regaining his cool, Miles started noticing some very important details. The metal mask was more like a muzzle, keeping the figure's mouth firmly closed. Said figure, large and imposing as it was, was chained to the wall at multiple points via sturdy manacles, almost unable to move. When he realized communication was unfeasible, he shrugged, resulting in much clinking.

The young vulpine considered his options. They were obviously in a cell, so the other prisoner was a potential ally. Judging from how secure he was, he was dangerous and thus a potentially useful ally as well. That train of thought was halted when he heard someone approaching, heavy boots echoing on metal floor.

A battlebird grunt appeared, carrying a tray of food and whistling. "Ah, you're up! Don't know why the commander saved you, but I'm not going to doubt him." He shoved the tray through a tiny opening in the bars, then regarded the little fox apprehensively. "How large was it?" he asked gingerly.

Miles blinked at that, one of his tails scratching his head. "How large was what?"

"The Mael-sprawler, of course! What else?" At the fox's blank stare, he shook his head. "You remember nothing, huh? Not surprising when facing such a horror. Even commander Speedy is still out of it."

Miles picked the tray, sniffing at the contents and trying not to sneer at the bad quality. "What about him?" he asked innocently, tails rigid behind him, indicating the shackled prisoner.

The battlebird shrugged. "He can't exactly eat with that thing on, can he? Blasted shark spy almost bit my head off before we caught him."

"A shark, huh?" responded the fox nonchalantly. "I was hoping for another fox…"

The grunt laughed at that. "The only other fox around here is that damned 'Touched one' the commander brought in. Boy, is she a handful. She's kept in a much better room than this, but soon after commander Speedy was brought in injured, the General ordered her moved to our main base. She is on her way as we speak," he chirped. "Good riddance I say. You never knew if she was about to snap your neck and escape."

When the battlebird was out of sight, Miles turned to the other prisoner thoughtfully. "Now, the only question is whether they monitor the cells. Know anything?"

The answer sounded like a long moan, followed by two shorter ones. The fox rubbed his head wearily at that. "One clink is no, two is yes, ok?"

The figure grew still, then moved deliberately twice.

Miles smiled. "Great. So any surveillance around?"

One clink, almost sounding relieved, although the fox suspected he was just coloring his own perceptions.

"Do many guards pass by?" One clink.

"If I free you, will you try to eat me?" One clink and an eye roll.

"If we escape, will you be able to run?" A brow raised, then two tentative clinks.

"Are you a Chaos Adept?" Incredulous expression, hesitation, two clinks, then realization.

Miles nodded. "Yeah, I'm one too. I'm going to try something and you had better stay very still." The shackled shark did not respond, wisely stopping any movement. The fox closed his eyes and concentrated. Chaos burnout wasn't a problem anymore, but calling on his powers wasn't exactly easy. He had used his tails as weapons dozens of times in the previous days, but that was during combat. At the height of battle, he had even bisected an enormous boulder without even trying. Now, under the fluorescent lighting of the plain cell, the memories seemed distant and hazy.

"Let's try, Vortex, Hurricane. Wish I had a ring on me", he muttered. Both tails waved eagerly, then lashed out as he spun around, their edges momentarily razor-sharp. The muzzle fell to the ground in pieces, followed by at least half the chains, revealing a fearsome set of glowing teeth. The shark didn't lose a second, biting and, surprisingly, shredding the remaining cuffs one by one.

Standing at his true height, three times taller than Miles, he stretched mightily and sighed. "Nice work, kid, and right about when I was starting to think I'm done for." Fearsome jaws quirked to a friendly, obliging smile. "I'm Ice Joe Shark. Just give me a moment to get my circulation back and we'll bust out of here."

The vulpine nodded. "We should have plenty of time. I'm Miles Prower, by the way."

Ice shook the extended hand amused, having to bend very low to reach. "Miles Prower," he repeated pensively, then laughed aloud. "Mael-sprawler! That's what they were babbling about. You're the one that trashed Kukku Junior! And the idiots left you unshackled."

Miles scoffed. "My name totally doesn't sound like that," he replied a bit miffed. "And it was more like a draw. I'd have won if not for that Chaos burnout thing…"

The shark winced at that. "I know the feeling. I'm not as strong an Adept as you seem to be, but I've suffered that twice." He regarded the younger Mobian for another second, then smiled. "You'll also like to know that the blimp kids are fine."

Miles' tails waved frantically at that and his ears perked. "You know about that? They are actually ok? Who are you really?"

Ice looked a bit overwhelmed. "Woah, woah, one question at the time, kid. But yeah, they are as good as they can be under the circumstances."

The fox's ears drooped. "Their families are gone…"

"Station Square will take care of them until they are adopted. About myself…" He hesitated a bit, measuring the vulpine, then nodded to himself. "Actually, I'm a G.U.N agent!" he explained fervently, his voice proud. At Miles' blank stare he scratched his head, deflating a bit. "That's Guardian Units of Nations. We are a global military organization that deals with these things," he added, indicating the battlebird base around them.

Miles regarded him carefully. "You are a scout, then. You were sent to map the place, and perhaps cause some damage, and then you got caught."

Ice winced at that. "Yeah, I messed that up. I'm usually pretty stealthy, you know," he claimed, showing off his muscles. He scowled at Miles' incredulous expression. "It's true!"

The fox shrugged. "Ok. So, what's the plan beyond the cell bars? Where should we go?"

The agent eyed him critically. "What you should be doing is turning left, following the corridor at the end, taking the third elevator for three floors, sneaking by the guard room, then following the signs to an emergency exit. But you aren't going to do that, are you?"

Miles extended his arm through the bars, feeling around until he located a control panel on the wall beside the cell. "I didn't come here to socialize. I'm looking for someone, a female fox, another Adept."

Ice nodded, trying to squeeze enough of his massive head through the bars to watch what the kit was doing. "You learnt she won't be here for long from that guard you suckered."

The fox removed one of his bomb gloves, regarding his claws. After a few tries, he managed to channel enough chaotic energies through them to shred that panel like a paper. "They didn't even search me properly", he muttered. His backpack was missing, but he still had a pouch with knick-knacks hidden in his fur. "If I miss her, I'll be back to square one. In that case, I'll need to find their main base and so will you, I suppose." He retrieved a tiny mirror from the pouch, regarding the naked circuits through it.

The shark sighed. "G.U.N. is preparing a major offensive. My goal is to neutralize the Armada's anti-air defenses deployed here, so that we can have some air support." He regarded Miles for a moment. "We could simply bust out, you know."

The fox rolled his eyes. "And trigger the alarm? I'd rather find our gear before we start swimming in guards." Producing a tiny circuit board, he started rewiring the security system, a mean feat considering he could only use one hand. "Anti-air, you say? I though this was a temporary base."

"The Imperial Battlebird Armada is an expert in these things. This whole base is as secure as any bunker, but they can deploy and disassemble the whole installation via airlift in at most ten hours. Their anti-air range covers the whole island and beyond," explained the agent, at the same time keeping an ear perched for any guards.

"I'd love to see how it all works," muttered Miles, his tongue pocking through his lips in intense concentration. "Almost… Almost. There!" The cell bars shuddered, rotated, then receded into the floor and ceiling. "Are you feeling okay?"

The shark huffed at that, then nodded. "You are pretty handy to have around, kid, even though you look younger than you are."

"Really?" asked the other mobian, peeking left and right down the corridor. "I look younger than four?" Making sure no one was around, he turned right and started walking briskly.

Ice Joe Shark, the G.U.N. agent, followed right behind, only taking a second to collect both his wits and his jaw.

**-s-t-h-**

Vertigo's eyes snapped to the door as she heard it unlock. The battlebirds behind it made sure she was well in sight before they dared to enter. Six soldiers, fully armed and twitchy, their rifles aimed at her.

"To what do I own the pleasure?" she asked smugly. One of her gloves was off and she was absently gouging holes to a wooden chair's back with her claws, a blatant insult. The room itself was nicely furnished, with a wide, soft bed, a large vanity desk, a rich plush carpet on the floor and numerous other cabinets and selves. Not something you'd expect in a temporary military base. If not for the heavy door and barred windows, she could have almost believed she was a guest.

"We will be moving you to another location, ma'am," explained the battlebird, trying to sound neutral. Vertigo was well known among the ranks, both as Speedy's 'secret' flame and as a ruthless fighter. Their orders were very explicit. Be respectful. Don't kill her. Don't harm her unless in self-defense. Don't let your guard down. Don't be killed.

"Oh, I need to get ready first," she chirped cheerfully. "Why, I'm practically naked," she added, indicating her bare hand.

The grunt in charge frowned deeply, his beak stiffening in rage. He then deflated with a sigh. "You have five minutes," he snapped, before ordering his men to retreat. They left the room without ever turning their backs to her.

Vertigo replaced her glove, shaking her head. "Now I just need an edge," she muttered, scanning the room around her.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles had led Ice right at a small storage room. One hacked control panel later, they recovered their gear, a backpack for the fox and a utility belt, complete with a comically tiny raygun, for the agent.

"Nice! How did you even know about this place? It wasn't labeled on the map I stole."

The two-tailed vulpine smiled. "I have tracers on all my gear," he explained smugly, presenting some kind of handheld gadget.

Ice raised a brow. "You get captured that often?"

Miles actually blushed a bit. "No, I'm just a bit sloppy sometimes…" he answered, ignoring the shark's laugh. "Where should we go now?"

The other mobian retrieved his own device from his belt and turned it on, displaying a holographic map of the base. "The main control room is here," he started, indicating a heavily protected position. "I need to tap into their system, then destroy it." He pointed at another location, on the base's top. "The anti-air defenses are here. Even without computers they can be fired manually, so they need to go."

The fox absently clutched on of his tails. "What's our escape strategy?"

The shark smiled grimly. "There is always the front door. The actual road to this place is narrow and heavily guarded, but it could be our best bet in a pinch." His finger lingered a bit, then moved to the opposite side of the hologram. "There is also the hangar. I can fly us out, but even with the AA weapons out of the picture, it will be risky."

Tails actually smiled, one of his ears tilting. "Time to teach me everything you know about stealth."

Ice glared a bit, muttering something about insolent kits, then nodded.

**-s-t-h-**

It wasn't easy to create a distraction on her own, she decided. With four soldiers following her and another two leading the way, she had to be very careful and precise. Inconspicuously held between her shoulder and chin and hidden by her rich hair, was a small wine bottle, taken from one of her room's cabinets. Slowly turning her head, Vertigo brought the item under her jaw, then let it fall right on her extended foot. She kicked it upwards, just shy of the ceiling and into an arc, and it landed far behind her.

Because she was taller than her guards, who were also wearing closed visors, nobody noticed the flying bottle until it audibly crashed. The tiny lapse of attention that followed was all she needed. Vertigo faked a stumble. Deceptively lean arms wrapped around two necks, using them as leverage while breaking them. Her booted feet both left the ground, stomping two faces behind her, then she let go of her first victims, jumped upwards, dodging bullets from the two remaining guards, bounced off the ceiling and landed behind them, knocking them out with each other's head before they could turn.

"Damn, they managed to fire a shot," she muttered annoyed, panting a little after her burst of movement. She had no way to quickly hide the bodies and someone was bound to have heard the gun reports. Quickly grabbing one of the battlebirds' rifles and as much ammo as she could get easily, she dashed forward, silent and lethal, but with no idea whatsoever about her direction.

**-s-t-h-**

Miles and Ice were too far away to hear the gunshots, but the resulting general alarm was harder to miss.

"The gig is up, I think!" shouted the shark, in an effort to be heard above the wailing.

The fox, with his hands plugging his more sensitive ears, wasn't exactly listening, but still got the gist of it. Moving as away from the speakers as possible, he located a closed door, gutted the lock with little finesse and dragged the older mobian inside.

"Until this madness stops, we'll stay here," he decided, closing and barring the door with a heavy crate. "They'll turn the alarm off as soon as everyone knows about us and then we'll be able to hear them coming again. I'm not rushing into close-quarter battle deaf."

Ice nodded, though a bit hesitant. "I agree, although we should not stay too long in one place. It's weird they found about us so fast." He was about to add something else, when he saw the door opening again, with enough force to knock the crate away. Knowing Miles couldn't see it, he quickly knocked him to the side, drew his raygun and started depressing the trigger.

At the same time, Vertigo rushed into the room, her rifle ready. Three pairs of eyes went wide. Two weapons fired true to their target. One figure rushed forward at unnatural speed.

**End of chapter 12**

**-s-t-h-**

Well, since people are still reviewing, I can't just quit this story, now, can I? I'm not very happy with this chapter, since I feel a bit out of practice, although you'll be the judges of that in the end. Ice Joe Shark will be a pretty minor character, although he is related to a canon character and is also part of two distinct name puns.

As to whether I intend to write any more sonic stories, adaptions, whatever, the only answer is 'no clue'. Ideas for stories come randomly and without warning. Miles' origins will remain obscure for now and perhaps forever. Feel free to make up theories, though.

Next up: sabotage, mayhem, escape and Emerald hunt race!


End file.
